The  Novels  of  George 
Meredith:  A  Study 


XyCrr^Vn^-^/^ 


The  Novels  of  George 
Meredith:   A  Study 


BY 

ELMER   JAMES    BAILEY 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1907 


Copyright,  1907,  by 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

Published  October,  1907 


UNIVERSITY  Ol'    <..Ai.irv^^'« 
3ANTA  BARBARA     ^ 


TO 
ALGERNON   SIDNEY   CRAPSEY 


"  Our  spoken  in  protest  remains. 
A  young  generation  reaps." 

Meredith  :  The  Empty  Purse. 


CONTENTS 

I 

Introduction  p^qb 

Compensation  in  Literary  Renown  —  The  Probable 
Permanence  of  Meredith's  Fame  —  The  Periods  of 
His  Career 1 

II 

The  Apprentice 
Meredith's    Early   Life  —  Literary  Conditions   in   Nine- 
teenth Century  England  before  1860  — The  "  Poems  " 
of  1851  —  "  The  Shaving  of  Shagpat "  —  "  Farina  "  .     13 

III 

The   JOURNEYIMAN 

Assimilated  Influences  — "  The  Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel  "  —  "Evan  Harrington"  —  "  Sandra 
Belloni"  — "Vittoria"— "Rhoda  Fleming"   .        .    45 

IV 

The  Master -Workman 
The  Period  of  Free   Invention  — "  The  Adventures  of 
Harry    Richmond"  —  "Beauchamp's  Career"  — 
"Short  Stories"—  "The  Egoist"  —  "The  Tragic 
Comedians  " 100 

V 

The  Master -Workman 
The  Period  of  Concentrated  Interest  —  "Diana  of  the 
Crossways  "  —  "  One  of  Our  Conquerors  "  —  "  Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta  "  —  "  The  Amazing  Mar- 
riage"—The  Meredith  School  .        .        ,        .148 

VI 

A  List  of  the  Characters  in  Meredith's  Novels,  with  an 
Enumeration  of  the  Chapters  in  which  they  appear  193 


THE   NOVELS   OF   GEORGE 
MEREDITH:     A    STUDY 

I 

INTRODUCTION 

COMPENSATION  IN  LITERARY  RENOWN — THE  PROB- 
ABLE PERMANENCE  OF  MEREDITH's  FAME — THE 
PERIODS  OF  HIS   CAREER. 

The  fame  which  comes  to  an  author  is  no  less  a 
result  of  the  action  of  moral  law  than  is  the  glory 
of  a  general,  the  renown  of  a  statesman,  or  the  beati- 
fication of  a  martyr.  Long  ago  the  clear-eyed 
Greeks  perceived  that  although  Fortune  dealt  out 
her  gifts  with  sovereign  disregard  of  merit  or  desert, 
she  was  sooner  or  later  followed  by  Nemesis,  the  god- 
dess of  due  proportion,  who  ruthlessly  shattered 
such  prosperity  as  seemed  even  moderately  beyond 
the  mean.  In  the  long  run,  the  alternating  move- 
ment set  up  by  repeated  visitations  of  the  two  deities, 
satisfied  the  mind  of  Justice;  and  the  balance  in 
her  steady  hand  fell  to  rest.  As  forces,  however. 
Fortune,  Nemesis,  and  Justice  did  not  become  power- 
less with  the  passing  of  Athens  and  Rome.  On  the 
contrary,  still  existing,  they  were  renamed  by  later 


2    THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

generations;  and  the  law  of  their  harmonious  inter- 
play  was  restated  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  had 
ears  to  hear.  Because  of  this  evolution  of  expres- 
sion, therefore,  we  no  longer  talk  with  the  Greek 
philosophers  of  Nemesis,  but  we  find  no  difficulty 
whatever  in  speaking  with  Emerson  and  Browning 
of  Compensation. 

Nor  is  this  law  or  principle,  in  so  far  as  it  has  to 
do  with  literary  fame,  difficult  of  statement.  Baldly 
expressed,  it  is  this:  The  duration  of  attention  at- 
tracted is  in  direct  ratio  to  the  time  consumed  in 
awakening  adequate  appreciation.  In  other  words, 
if  renown  is  the  growth  of  a  night,  its  continuance  will 
be  hardly  more  than  for  a  day;  but  if  it  is  slow  in 
coming  to  maturity,  it  is  likely  to  be  persistent, 
and  in  some  cases  permanent.  A  man,  for  example, 
writes  a  story  which  is  immediately  looked  upon  as 
the  greatest  novel  of  the  year;  soon  it  is  advertised 
as  being  in  its  tenth,  its  twelfth,  or  possibly  its  six- 
teenth edition.  For  a  time  it  heads  the  list  of  best- 
selling  books;  then  it  runs  the  gauntlet  of  women's 
clubs;  and  finally  it  rushes  comet-like  on  its  par- 
abolic course  from  our  sight.  On  the  other  hand, 
should  a  serious-minded,  high-purposed  author  pro- 
duce a  book  which  must  needs  be  read  with  the  mind 
as  well  as  the  eye,  his  readers,  at  first,  are  almost 
certain  to  be  few,  barely  "the  remnant,"  perhaps. 
Nevertheless,  if  the  work  is  deserving,  the  audience 
steadily  widens;  and  the  author's  writing  gradually 
ceases  to  be  confused  with  his  wife's,  if  she  happens 
to  be  a  blue-stocking,  or  with  the  weaker  pro- 
ductions of  some  man  whose  pseudonymous  name 


INTRODUCTION  3 

misleads  those  who  read  as  they  run.  Such  a 
writer,  furthermore,  is  occasionally  forced  to  pass 
through  the  purgatory  of  having  a  club  formed  for 
the  purpose  of  studying  his  work.  But  even  this 
agony  enters  as  a  factor  into  the  problem  of  due 
compensation,  for  if  an  author  withstands  that  test 
of  his  power,  the  ellipticity  of  his  orbit  is  in  all  proba- 
bility computable;  and  although  he  may  disappear 
from  sight  or  even  from  memory  for  a  time,  he  is  likely, 
none  the  less,  to  return  at  intervals  with  an  ever  in- 
creasing splendor  of  renown. 

What  Homer  was  to  those  who  heard  him  recite 
his  poems,  no  one  now  can  ever  know;  but  critics  were 
not  wanting  even  among  the  Greeks,  who  proved 
beyond  a  shadow  of  doubt,  that  the  blind  poet  of  the 
seven  cities  was  altogether  lighter  than  vanity.  Even 
in  recent  time,  it  has  been  shown  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  not  a  few,  that  no  such  man  as  Homer 
ever  lived;  yet  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  remain, 
and  by  the  many  the  iconoclastic  critics  are  re- 
membered chiefly  because  they  raised  their  un- 
shamed  hands  against  a  master.  Dante,  indeed,  had 
literary  recognition  in  his  life-time;  for  as  he  moved 
through  the  streets  of  Ravenna,  not  only  did  the 
nobility  pay  him  a  certain  forced  respect,  but  simple- 
minded  mothers  gathered  their  children  about  them, 
and  whispered  in  trembling  awe  that  the  stern-faced, 
silent  man  had  looked  upon  the  sufferings  of  those 
who  writhed  in  the  torments  of  Hell.  Yet  when 
Fortune  tardily  sought  out  one  of  the  greatest  of  the 
children  of  men,  she  found  that,  over-weary  with  the 
climbing  of  others'  stairs,  he  could  draw  no  comfort 


4    THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

from  the  high  regard  which  she  was  then  wiUing  to 
bestow.  Shakespeare,  too,  was  no  very  great  man  in 
the  sight  of  his  friends  at  the  Mermaid  Tavern ;  and 
the  best  reply  which  Dryden  and  Pope  could  give  to 
Milton's  inquiry,  "  What  needs  my  Shakspear  for  his 
honoured  bones  ?  "  was  to  emasculate  the  most  virile 
work  which  the  literary  world  has  known.  There 
is  little  question  about  these  great  men  now,  how- 
ever, for  Fame  has  crowned  their  work;  and  in 
compensation  for  her  delay,  she  has  made  the  wreath 
immortal. 

In  the  narrower  field  of  English  fiction  the  work- 
ing of  the  law  is  no  less  evident  and  sure.  We  are 
in  the  habit  of  assuming  that  Scott,  and  Thackeray, 
and  Dickens,  and  possibly  George  Eliot,  are  our 
greatest  novelists;  and  consequently  few  of  us  stop 
to  realize,  even  if  we  know,  that  G.  P.  R.  James,  and 
Lever,  and  Bulwer  were,  at  one  time,  very  much 
more  eagerly  read,  and  their  enduring  fame  much 
more  earnestly  prophesied.  It  cannot,  of  course, 
be  held  with  truth  that  our  greater  novelists  received 
no  recognition  in  their  day.  Indeed,  Scott's  con- 
temporary popularity  and  present  renown  would 
seem  to  be  an  exception  to  the  rule,  if  it  could  be 
proved  that  more  than  a  very  small  number  of  those 
who  now  feel  compelled  to  buy  his  books  and  to 
speak  glibly  of  his  characters,  ever  sit  down  even  to 
cut  the  leaves  of  their  purchase.  Thackeray  and 
Dickens,  it  should  be  admitted,  both  expressed  their 
satisfaction  in  the  recognition  with  which  their 
books  were  met:  but  neither  of  them  at  any  time  re- 
ceived a  modicum  of  that  extravagant  praise,  or  a 


INTRODUCTION  5 

tithe  of  that  large  return  in  money,  which  is  the 
present  lot  of  nearly  every  man  who  discovers  the 
cheapness  of  paper  and  ink,  and  thinks  it  his  duty 
to  bring  them  together.  But  this  evenness  of  re- 
nown in  the  case  of  Thackeray  and  of  Dickens  does 
not  confute  the  principle  of  compensation  as  laid 
down.  It  rather  shows  the  action  of  the  law  when 
recognition  has  been  neither  too  long  delayed,  nor 
too  excessive;  for  the  appreciation  which  Thackeray 
and  Dickens  and  George  Eliot  received  from  their 
contemporary  readers  was  no  greater  than  was  due; 
and,  therefore,  creating  no  disturbance  in  the  bal- 
ance of  justice,  it  has  ever  since  continued  with  only 
that  occasional  fluctuation  of  interest,  which  is  the 
systole  and  diastole  of  living,  pulsating  renown. 

With  the  thought  of  compensation  in  mind, 
therefore,  one  feels  assurance  in  predicting  the  per- 
manent fame  of  George  Meretlith,  the  last  of  those 
great  creative  artists  whose  novels  bear  nearly  the 
same  relation  to  the  reign  of  Victoria  as  the  dramas 
of  the  sixteenth  century  bear  to  that  of  Elizabeth. 
Beginning  to  strive  for  the  ear  of  the  public  as  early 
as  1849,  the  year  in  which  Dickens  was  bringing  out 
"David  Copperfield,"  and  Thackeray  was  writing 
"Pendennis,"  Meredith  during  the  next  half  century 
placed  before  the  public  a  dozen  novels,  several 
volumes  of  poetry,  a  few  short  stories,  and  occa- 
sionally an  essay  or  a  review.  In  no  possible  sense 
of  the  word,  however,  did  he  become  popular.  Edi- 
tors of  certain  magazines,  it  is  true,  had  the  courage 
to  print  some  of  Meredith's  work  in  their  pages;  but 
such  publication  seems  not  to  have  awakened  any 


6    THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

distinct  appreciation  of  the  contributor,  nor  to  have 
increased  the  length  of  the  subscription  hsts;  indeed, 
it  is  said  that,  now  and  then,  it  shortened  them.  The 
first  editions  of  the  novels  and  of  the  poems  supplied 
the  public  for  years;  there  was  no  marked  demand 
for  them  at  circulating  libraries;  and  until  recently  a 
uniform  issue  of  ^Meredith's  works  was  the  last  thing 
which  a  publisher  would  have  considered  with  the 
expectation  of  adequate  financial  return. 

Meredith,  however,  did  not  cease  to  keep  the  road 
which  he  had  chosen  for  himself.  Publishers  and 
editors  found  that  there  was  no  use  in  tempting, 
friends  that  there  was  as  little  in  advising,  until, 
finally,  nearly  all  of  even  those  who  wished  him  well 
began  to  shake  their  heads  and  mourn  over  the  in- 
evitable shipwTeck  which  they  prophesied  must  be 
the  lot  of  perverse  genius.  This  stubborn  following 
of  his  own  bent  by  iSIeredith  may  have  been  the  chief 
cause  of  the  general  indifference  with  which  he  was 
regarded;  but  nevertheless,  little  as  he  was  known, 
he  was  not  without  an  audience,  and  this  audience 
endeavored,  almost  vicariously,  it  might  be  said,  to 
proselytize  readers.  Yet,  laudatory  advertisements, 
enthusiastic  review-TVTiting,  and  affected  admiration 
accomplished  next  to  nothing.  Despite  the  appar- 
ent indifference,  however,  George  Meredith  and  his 
works  would  not  down.  j\Iany  who  reviled  him 
openly  read  him  privately,  while  others,  who  found 
themselves  unable  to  understand  him  at  all,  looked 
superior  and  "knowing"  when  his  work  was  men- 
tioned. ]Meredith  was  happy,  certainly,  in  escaping 
the  lot  of  Browning  who  w^as  called  upon  to  endure 


INTRODUCTION  7 

the  formation  of  societies  named  in  his  honor,  but 
doing  him  the  dishonor  of  explaining  the  obvious 
and  muddhng  the  clear.  Still,  small  groups  here 
and  there  did  talk  about  the  novelist  to  good  pur- 
pose, and  three  or  four  presumably  serious  studies  of 
his  work  also  appeared.  These,  it  is  true,  were^ome- 
what  thin  in  character;  but  they  served  to  force  the 
conclusion  that  there  must  be  something  worth  while 
in  George  INIeredith,  since,  like  Christianity,  he  was 
able  to  endure  in  spite  of  defenders. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  things  toward  the  close 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  when  a  wide-spread  ap- 
preciation of  Meredith  was  seen  to  be  in  existence. 
Those  who  admired  him  were  surprised  to  learn  that 
he  had  long  been  the  favorite  writer  of  their  next- 
door  neighbors.  Buyers  of  books  ceased  to  think 
that  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  was  a  ballad 
bound  up  in  complete  editions  of  Owen  Meredith's 
poems;  and  although  some  of  them  never  got  be- 
yond that  knowledge,  others,  who  were  readers  as 
well  as  buyers,  began  to  feel  that  George  Meredith 
possessed  the  qualities  which  abide.  To  his  admir- 
ers this  long  delay  in  the  general  recognition  of  his 
genius  has  been  a  source  of  regret;  but,  on  the  whole, 
perhaps  it  is  best.  The  tardy  appreciation  of  Mere- 
dith means,  if  the  law  of  compensation  holds,  that  his 
present  repute  must  persist.  There  has  been  no 
rocket-like  flight,  accompanied  with  pyrotechnic 
whizzings;  but  there  has  been,  it  is  now  evident,  a 
steady  forward  movement,  which  has  resulted  in  the 
capture  and  possibly  the  permanent  occupation  of 
one  of   the  higher  citadels  of  renown.     In  other 


8    THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

words,  the  probable  compensation  of  George  Mere- 
dith's long  wait  for  adequate  recognition  is  endur- 
ing fame. 

INIeredith's  insistence  upon  ordering  his  methods 
and  plans  to  suit  himself  has  often  been  the  subject 
of  comment  on  the  part  of  the  critic;  but  while  such 
insistence  must  be  admitted,  it  should  not  be  con- 
strued into  meaning  that  his  work,  as  a  whole,  is  not 
subject  to  differentiation.  The  close  reader  soon 
discovers  a  larger  unity  in  the  consistent  purpose  and 
the  well-ordered  system  of  philosophy  which  runs 
throughout  Meredith's  work.  He  furthermore  per- 
ceives, if  he  makes  a  study  of  the  novels,  that  they 
readily  fall  into  four  groups,  each  of  which  was  pro- 
duced in  a  period  of  about  ten  years.  The  seeming 
artificiality  of  such  a  division  becomes  still  more  strik- 
ing when  it  is  added  that  to  each  of  these  groups, 
except  the  first,  just  four  works  belong.  But,  how- 
ever arbitrary  a  classification  based  upon  time  and 
number  may  appear,  especially  when  it  permits 
such  mathematical  exactness  of  statement,  it  be- 
comes convincing,  if,  upon  being  observed  from  an- 
other point  of  view,  it  is  still  found  to  be  accurate  and 
adequate. 

The  decade  beginning  in  1849  seems  to  have  been 
for  Meredith  a  period  of  experiment  or  preparation. 
Not  quite  sure  of  the  kind  of  literature  which  he 
should  cultivate,  he  began  his  career  with  the  publi- 
cation of  a  poem  called  "  Chillian wallah "  in  the 
issue  of  Chambers's  Edinburgh  Journal  for  July  7. 
Two  years  later  a  volume  of  poems  appeared,  and 
then  in  1856  and  1857  respectively,  "The  Shaving  of 


INTRODUCTION  9 

Shagpat"  and  "Farina."  The  composition  of  the 
poems,  of  the  extravaganza,  and  of  the  medieval 
tale  showed  no  fixity  of  purpose;  and  these  works 
may  be  said,  without  undue  disparagement,  to  ex- 
hibit a  hesitancy  which  characterizes  the  apprentice 
rather  than  the  experienced  workman. 

The  last  years  of  this  first  period  were  no  doubt 
spent  in  writing  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel," 
for  its  publication  in  1859  opened  the  second 
decade  of  Meredith's  literary  activity.  This  book 
showed  a  decided  advance  in  power;  and,  viewed  in 
the  light  of  his  subsequent  work,  it  marked  an  awak- 
ening to  a  realization  of  the  form  of  literature  in 
which  the  wTiter  could  best  express  himself.  The 
several  novels  beginning  with  "The  Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel"  and  ending  with  "The  Amazing  Mar- 
riage," therefore,  exhibit  a  homogeneity  which  does 
not  exist  in  the  works  of  the  first  period.  They 
are,  none  the  less,  easily  separated  into  three 
groups,  each  including  four  stories.  The  three 
decades,  in  each  of  which  one  of  these  groups  was 
published,  may  receive  a  designation  determined 
by  the  vantage  ground  from  which  the  novels  are 
studied.  Such  possible  points  of  view  are  of  course 
many;  but  the  most  important  are  those  from  which 
one  may  come  to  conclusions  with  regard  either  to 
Meredith's  emancipation  from  the  influence  of  other 
writers,  or  to  the  development  in  his  philosophy  of 
life. 

If  the  possibility  of  such  a  classification  be  ad- 
mitted, the  decade  beginning  in  1859  may  be  called 
the  period  of  influenced  production,  since  "The  Or- 


10       THE  NOVEI^  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

deal  of  Richard  Feverel,"  published  in  that  year, 
"Evan  Harrington"  in  1861,  "EmiUa  in  England," 
as  "Sandra  Belloni"  was  originally  called,  in  1864, 
"Rhoda  Fleming"  in  1865,  and  "Vittoria,"  which 
should  be  regarded  not  as  a  separate  novel,  but  only 
as  the  completion  of  Sandra's  story,  in  1867, — all 
show  striking  lines  of  connection  with  the  WTitings 
of  Meredith's  predecessors  and  contemporaries. 
Moreover,  since  these  same  novels  make  a  system- 
atic onslaught  upon  sham  and  conventionality,  the 
time  in  which  they  were  produced  may  be  called 
the  period  of  attack  upon  sentimentalism. 

The  third  decade,  separated  from  the  second  by 
two  years  of  silence,  began  in  1871  with  "The 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond,"  and  was  still 
further  marked  by  the  publication  of  "Beauchamp's 
Career"  in  1876,  "The  Egoist"  in  1879,  and  "The 
Tragic  Comedians"  in  1880.  These  novels  show  al- 
most no  traces  of  any  other  writer's  influence,  and 
may  therefore  be  regarded  as  belonging  to  a  period 
of  free  invention;  but  if  emphasis  is  laid  upon  their 
philosophical  content,  since  they  present  studies  of 
selfishness  or,  to  use  Emerson's  term — "selfism," 
they  may  be  looked  upon  as  having  been  produced 
during  the  period  of  attack  upon  egoism. 

After  the  publication  of  "The  Tragic  Comedians," 
Meredith  permitted  a  lustrum  to  pass  before  he  en- 
tered upon  the  final  period  of  his  activity  as  novelist. 
Like  the  novels  of  the  preceding  decade,  those  of  this 
time,  "Diana  of  the  Crossways,"  published  in  1885, 
"One  of  Our  Conquerors"  in  1891,  "Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta"  in  1894,  and  "The  Amazing  Mar- 


INTRODUCTIOiN  11 

riage"  in  1895,  present  no  striking  instances  of  out- 
side influence;  but  since  they  centre  themselves 
around  a  single  problem,  the  unha})py  marriage,  they 
may  be  said  to  belong  to  the  period  of  concentrated 
interest.  Furthermore,  since  each  of  the  novels  in 
this  group  is  a  study  of  the  separation  of  a  husband 
and  a  wife  through  troubles  arising  from  incompat- 
ibility of  temper,  disparity  of  age,  or  inequality  of 
rank,  and  since  Meredith  apparently  approves  of  the 
parting  of  man  and  wife  under  such  circumstances, 
the  works  of  the  last  decade  belong  to  the  period  of 
attack  upon  conventional  ideas  of  marriage. 

Not  a  few  objections  may  be  urged  against  the 
classification  just  outlined;  and  at  least  two  merit 
reply.  The  classification,  it  may  be  said,  ignores 
the  several  volumes  of  poetry  which  Meredith  has 
written.  This  is  true  undoubtedly,  but  save  in  so 
far  as  certain  poems  throw  light  upon  the  novels  in 
matters  of  method,  purpose,  or  expression,  they  may 
be  ignored  in  a  study  of  the  prose  writings.  Again, 
many  threads  of  connection  between  the  diflPerent 
groups  are  disregarded,  and  this  might  lead  to  the 
hasty  conclusion  that  there  is  a  lack  of  unity  in 
Meredith's  work.  Now  a  classification  is  of  greatest 
help  when  it  is  reduced  to  its  lowest  terms;  and  at 
this  point  it  must  be  remembered  that  such  a  reduc- 
tion involves  the  casting  out  of  all  common  factors 
and  the  retention  of  those  alone  which  are  unlike. 
Such  a  classification,  however,  still  remains  helpful 
even  when  elements  eliminated  earlier  for  the  sake 
of  clearness  are  reintroduced. 

The  novels  of  Meredith,  then,  may  be  studied,  if 


12   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

it  is  permissible  to  borrow  terms  from  the  artisan 
rather  than  from  the  artist,  as  works  produced  during 
years  of  activity  in  which  he  showed  himself  suc- 
cessively an  apprentice,  a  journeyman,  and  a  master- 
workman.  In  the  first  stage,  he  WTote  those  books 
already  mentioned  as  belonging  to  a  period  of  ex- 
periment and  preparation;  in  the  second,  he  pub- 
lished the  works  of  the  ten  years  designated  as  the 
period  of  influenced  production  or  of  attack  upon 
sentimentalism;  and  in  the  third,  he  spent  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  upon  the  novels  of  two  sep- 
arated decades,  of  which  the  earlier  may  be  char- 
acterized as  the  period  of  free  invention  or  of  attack 
upon  egoism ;  and  the  later  as  the  period  of  concen- 
trated interest  or  of  attack  upon  conventional  ideas 
of  marriage. 


II 

THE  APPRENTICE 

Meredith's  early  life — literary  conditions  in 
nineteenth  century  england  before  1860 — 
the  "poems"  of  1851 — "the  shaving  of  shag- 
pat" — "farina." 

The  first  decade  of  Meredith's  literary  career  was 
the  third  of  his  life-time.  Born  in  Hampshire, 
February  12,  1828,  he  lost  during  his  childhood 
his  Welsh  father  and  Irish  mother,  and  thereupon 
becoming  a  ward  in  chancery  was  sent  to  Germany 
for  his  education.  Critics  are  probably  not  far 
wrong  when  they  say  that  the  man  in  whom  was 
thus  mingled  blood  drawn  from  two  branches  of  the 
fancy-loving,  quick-witted  Celtic  race,  and  whose 
training  was  received  among  a  people  posssssed  of 
searching  analytic  intelligence,  showed  by  his  spark- 
ling wit  and  his  almost  mystical  treatment  of  nature 
the  influence  of  his  ancestry  on  one  hand,  and  by 
his  penetrating  insight  into  motives  of  conduct  and 
his  philosophical  criticism  of  life  the  no  less  potent 
influence  of  his  education  on  the  other.  But  how- 
ever interesting  and  valuable  it  may  be  to  point  out 
the  possible  connections  of  earlier  conditions  and  sur- 
roundings with  later  thought  and  methods,  the  fact 


14       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

that  Meredith  was  placed  at  a  school  upon  the  con- 
tinent would  imply,  in  so  far  as  the  mere  events  of 
his  life  are  concerned,  that  his  parents  had  left  the 
boy  provided  with  at  least  some  little  property. 
Such  a  conclusion,  however,  is  hardly  trustworthy, 
for  we  are  often  told  that  when  jNIeredith  in  the  first 
years  of  his  manhood  returned  to  England,  he  found 
himself  compelled  to  enter  immediately  into  a  strug- 
gle with  poverty .  In  all  probability  allowance  should 
be  made  for  exaggeration  when  one  reads  that  the 
young  man  lived  for  several  months  upon  oatmeal; 
yet  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  he  labored  for 
years  with  pecuniary  difficulties  which  to  many  would 
have  been  wholly  disheartening.  Under  conditions, 
then,  which  must  have  been  far  from  easy,  Mere- 
dith, at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  turned  his  attention 
to  the  study  of  law;  but  his  interest,  never  more 
than  lukewarm,  soon  cooled,  and  in  a  short  time  he 
abandoned  all  thought  of  the  bar  as  a  satisfactory 
profession. 

Journalism,  as  a  means  of  livelihood,  perhaps, 
rather  than  as  a  calling,  next  claimed  him,  and  proved 
sufficiently  attractive  to  make  him  willing  in  later 
life  to  serve  at  intervals  upon  various  newspapers 
and  magazines.  But  a  greater  interest  than  either 
law  or  journalism  was  stirring  within  him.  Indeed 
as  early  as  1849,  the  year  in  which  he  was  articled, 
Meredith,  roused  by  the  heroism  of  the  English 
soldiery  in  the  bloody  battle  of  Chillian wallah,  made 
his  first  appearance  as  author  with  a  poem  com- 
memorative of  the  victory.  The  stanzas  were  not 
included  in  the  definitive  and  so  called  complete 


THE  APPRENTICE  15 

edition  of  Meredith's  works  published  in  1898;  but 
whatever  crudeness  they  may  show,  their  author 
need  not  have  been  ashamed  to  reprint  them. 

CHILLIANWALLAH 

Chillianwallahl     Chillian  wallah! 

Where  our  brothers  fought  and  bledl 
Oh!  thy  name  is  natural  music, 

And  a  dirge  above  the  dead! 
Though  we  have  not  been  defeated, 

Though  we  can't  be  overcome, 
Still,  whene'er  thou  art  repeated, 

I  would  fain  that  grief  were  dumb. 

Chillianwallah!     Chillianwallahl 

'Tis  a  name  so  sad  and  strange, 
Like  a  breeze  through  midnight  harp-strings 

Ringing  many  a  mournful  change; 
But  the  wildness  and  the  sorrow 

Plave  a  meaning  of  their  own — 
Oh!  whereof  no  glad  to-morrow 

Can  relieve  the  dismal  tone! 

Chillianwallah!     Chillianwallahl 

'Tis  a  village  dark  and  low, 
By  the  bloody  Jhelum  River, 

Bridged  by  the  foreboding  foe; 
And  across  the  wintry  water 

He  is  ready  to  retreat. 
When  the  carnage  and  the  slaughter 

Shall  have  paid  for  his  defeat. 

Chillianwallah!     Chillianwallah! 

'Tis  a  wild  and  dreary  plain, 
Strewn  with  plots  of  thickest  jungle, 

Matted  with  the  gory  stain. 


IG       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

There  the  murder-mouthed  artillery 

In  the  deadly  ambuscade, 
Wrok  the  thunder  of  his  treachery 

On  the  skeleton  brigade. 

Chillianwallah !     Chillianwallah ! 

When  the  night  set  in  with  rain. 
Came  the  savage  plundering  devils 

To  their  work  among  the  slain; 
And  the  wounded  and  the  dying 

In  cold  blood  did  share  the  doom 
Of  their  comrades  round  them  lying, 

Stiff  in  the  dread  skyless  gloom. 

Chillianwallah!     Chillianwallah! 

Thou  wilt  be  a  doleful  chord, 
And  a  mystic  note  of  mourning 

That  will  need  no  chiming  word; 
And  that  heart  will  leap  with  anguish 

Who  may  understand  the  best; 
But  the  hopes  of  all  will  languish 

Till  thy  memory  is  at  rest. 

The  publication  of  "Chillianwallah"  has,  of 
course,  a  certain  interest  as  the  starting  point  in 
Meredith's  literary  career.  A  mere  date  in  itself, 
however,  is  usually  of  very  little  value  in  the  life  of 
an  author.  Far  more  important  is  the  place  which 
he  holds  relatively  to  other  writers,  especially  if  he 
makes  his  appearance  at  a  time  favorable  to  his  best 
development.  Such  was  the  case  with  Meredith. 
Even  going  back  to  the  beginning,  one  learns  that 
Meredith's  birth  preceded  Ibsen's  by  but  one  month, 
and  Dante  Gal^riel  Rossetti's  by  only  three.  The 
year  of  1828  also  saw  the  establishment  of  The 
AthefKFum    and    The  Spectator,  two   reviews  which 


THE  APPRENTICE  17 

for  many  years  disagreed  whenever  a  work  by  Mere- 
dith appeared,  since  the  first  was  nearly  always 
favorable,  despite  any  restrictions  which  it  saw  fit 
to  suggest;  while  the  second  was  seldom  other  than 
depreciatory,  whatever  merit  it  was  grudgingly 
forced  to  allow. 

In  1828,  of  the  poets  favorably  known  during  the 
early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century,  Byron,  Shelley, 
and  Keats  were  dead;  and  Moore,  Coleridge,  Southey, 
and  Wordsworth  had  all  done  their  best  work,  al- 
though Southey  was  still  Poet-Laureate,  and  Words- 
worth was  to  succeed  to  that  office  in  1843.  Tenny- 
son and  Elizabeth  Barrett  were  but  just  known, 
and  Browning  had  not  printed  "Pauline."  Among 
the  essayists  and  reviewers,  Hazlitt  and  Lamb  were 
near  the  end  of  their  lives;  Hunt,  DeQuincey,  and 
Landor  were  in  mid-career;  Macaulay  had  contrib- 
uted his  first  vigorous  articles  to  The  Edinburgh 
Review;  Carlyle  was  at  the  close  of  his  period  of  ex- 
treme admiration  for  things  German;  and  Ruskin 
was  a  boy  of  ten.  Scott,  of  course,  was  the  acknowl- 
edged leading  novelist;  but  the  roll  of  the  "  Waverly" 
series  was  nearly  complete.  Thomas  Love  Pea- 
cock, who  was  to  become  Meredith's  father-in-law, 
was  very  popular  as  the  author  of  several  satirical 
tales  of  English  life,  Susan  Ferrier  was  between 
"Inheritance"  and  "Destiny,"  and  Maria  Edgeworth 
between  "Ormund"  and  "Helen."  Disraeli  had 
just  published  "Vivian  Gray;"  Bulwer,  not  yet 
raised  to  the  peerage,  was  in  the  period  of  his  wild 
and  wicked  heroes;  and  G.  P.  R.  James,  foolishly 
encouraged  by  Scott,  was  at  work  upon  "Richelieu." 


18       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Between  1828  and  1859,  that  is  during  the  thirty 
years  which  lay  between  Meredith's  birth  and  the 
appearance  of  his  first  novel,  important  changes 
took  place  in  literary  England,  Tennyson  steadily 
forged  ahead  until  he  succeeded  Wordsworth  as 
Poet-Laureate  in  1850,  and  by  publishing  "  In  Me- 
moriam"  in  the  same  year,  so  effectually  silenced  the 
sneers  which  "The  Princess"  had  awakened  in  1847, 
that  he  w^as  felt  to  have  placed  his  fame  upon  no 
doubtful  foundation,  a  belief  greatly  strengthened 
by  the  appearance  of  the  first  four  "Idylls  of  the 
King"  in  1858.  Browning  was  making  his  way 
more  slow^ly,  but  he  completed  the  series  called 
"Bells  and  Pomegranates";  and  somewhat  later, 
"Men  and  Women,"  despite  the  cheap  flings  of 
critics,  gained  him  no  mean  following.  His  wdfe, 
however,  was  regarded  by  nearly  everybody  as  the 
greater  poet  of  the  two,  though  that  very  mild 
poem,  "Aurora  Leigh,"  w^as  looked  upon  as  a  rather 
shocking  piece  of  work  for  a  lady.  Arnold  was  se- 
verely criticised  again  and  again  for  his  attempt  to 
write  English  poetry  in  accordance  with  Greek 
methods;  Rossetti's  verses  awaited  their  resurrec- 
tion from  the  grave  of  his  wife;  and  Swinburne  was 
probably  no  more  than  beginning  to  think  about 
those  naughty  "Poems  and  Ballads"  which  event- 
ually troubled  the  sentimental  propriety  of  England. 

During  the  same  period  Peacock  amused  his 
readers  with  his  satire  of  "Crotchet  Castle";  and 
Disraeli  dabbled  in  various  themes.  Bulwer  man- 
aged to  escape  from  his  melodramatic  heroes  and 
colorless  virgins,  and  after  trying  to  balance  himself 


THE  APPRENTICE  19 

in  writing  historical  novels,  subsided  into  his  com- 
plex period  of  the  highly  moral  mingled  with  the 
supernatural;  while  G.  P.  R.  James  placed  an  al- 
most endless  succession  of  wooden  horsemen,  one  by 
one,  upon  nearly  every  plain  which  the  world  af- 
forded. The  Bronte  galaxy  all  ran  their  brilliant 
courses,  although  many  considered  the  sisters  in- 
ferior to  Samuel  Lover,  Charles  Lever,  and  Fred- 
erick Marryat;  Trollope  began  his  systematic  writ- 
ing of  a  fixed  number  of  pages  each  day,  and 
produced,  on  the  average,  three  novels  every  two 
years;  Kingsley  gained  the  reputation  of  being  ready 
to  speak  in  sincere  defense  of  every  just  cause;  but, 
after  exhibiting  himself  in  "Alton  I>ocke"  as  a 
champion  of  the  workingman,  he  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  historical  tales.  Before  doing  this,  however, 
he  let  his  mantle  fall  upon  Charles  Reade,  who  had 
already  gained  favorable  recognition  as  a  playwright, 
but  who  thereupon  began  the  composition  of  novels 
which  inveighed  against  social  wrongs  and  abuses. 
Ac  the  very  close  of  the  period  George  Eliot  aston- 
ished herself  no  less  than  the  world  by  the  success 
with  which  she  met  in  writing,  at  the  suggestion  of 
George  Henry  Lewes,  the  three  stories  now  col- 
lected under  the  title,  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  " ;  and 
Wilkie  Collins  set  about  the  composition  of  "The 
Woman  in  White,"  that  attractive  example  of  a 
story  told  for  the  story's  sake.  But  the  two  men 
who  alone  were  mentioned  in  the  same  breath  with 
Scott  were  Dickens  and  Thackeray.  Born  within 
a  twelve-month  of  each  other,  they  both  began  their 
literary  work  soon  after  the  year  of  Meredith's  birth, 


20       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

and  publishing  their  writings  with  marked  regu- 
larity, had  completed  nearly  all  their  important 
novels  when  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel" 
appeared  in  1859. 

Among  prose  writers  other  than  novelists,  Carlyle 
and  Ruskin  were  preaching  the  nobility  of  labor,  and 
fulminating  against  cant  and  sham;  while  Macaulay 
continued  to  write  his  brilliant  essays  and  began  his 
no  less  brilliant  history.  The  Tractarian  move- 
ment ran  its  course  with  its  remarkable  display  of 
fine  rhetoric,  enthusiastic  zeal,  and  deep  religious 
feeling.  The  opposing  leaders,  Pusey  and  New- 
man, both  equally  sincere,  shook  the  English  Church 
to  its  foundations;  while  Gladstone,  though  not  in  the 
midst  of  the  conflict,  hovered  with  much  apprehen- 
sion upon  the  outskirts  of  the  battlefield.  George 
Eliot  hardly  helped  to  simplify  matters  by  translat- 
ing German  inquiries  into  the  authenticity  of  Chris- 
tianity; and  the  works  of  Darwin  and  of  Spencer  in 
natural  science  and  in  philosophy  not  only  added  to 
the  confusion,  but  forced  thinking  men  to  give  up 
long  accepted  doctrines,  and  to  reformulate  many 
sacred  beliefs. 

Such  then  were  the  literary  conditions  in  England 
while  Meredith  was  getting  his  schooling  upon  the 
continent,  and  was  later  serving  his  apprenticeship 
at  home.  In  wealth  of  genius  these  years  have 
often  been  compared  with  justice  to  the  Elizabethan 
Age.  Poetry  flourished  as  freely  in  one  period  as 
in  the  other;  the  novel  in  the  later  took  the  place  of 
the  drama  in  the  earlier;  and  discoveries  in  science 
were  hardly  less  important  in  opening  new  vistas 


THE  APPRENTICE  21 

to  men's  imagination  than  were  the  explorations  of 
Raleigh  and  Drake.  In  other  words,  the  later 
period,  like  the  former,  did  not  so  much  try  men's 
souls,  as  it  permitted  their  full  development.  Under 
such  conditions,  therefore,  an  intellect  like  Mere- 
dith's must  beyond  a  doubt  have  found  sustenance 
on  every  side  and  incentives  at  every  turn. 

But  however  much  it  may  be  evident  in  after  years 
that  a  writer's  work  has  been  influenced  by  his  an- 
cestry, his  education,  his  early  struggles  with  poverty, 
and  the  literary  conditions  which  have  surrounded 
his  first  sallies  into  the  fields  of  authorship,  it  is  not 
always  found  that  in  the  beginning  he  exhibited  a 
knowledge  of  the  form  in  which  he  could  best  ex- 
press himself.  Such  at  all  events,  is  the  case  with 
Meredith.  His  first  poem  of  "Chillian wallah"  was 
perhaps  but  an  accidental  utterance  of  patriotic  ad- 
miration for  those  who  snatched  victory  out  of  de- 
feat while  fighting  for  their  country's  honor.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  the  young  law  student  spent  the 
next  two  years  in  preparing  a  small  volume  of  verse 
to  which  he  gave  no  more  ambitious  title  than 
"Poems  by  George  Meredith."  Five  years  later, 
in  1856,  he  published  in  prose,  an  Arabian  story 
called  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat";  and  this  was  re- 
ceived with  sufficient  favor  to  encourage  his  further 
testing  the  temper  of  the  public  in  the  following 
year  with  a  German  tale  named  "Farina,  A  Legend 
of  Cologne."  These  two  stories,  wholly  dissimilar 
in  diction,  character  drawing,  and  plot,  force  the 
reader  to  feel  that  Meredith  was  at  the  stage  of  ex- 
periment, rather  than  at  that  of  conscious  power. 


22   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Certainly  all  this  earlier  work  betrayed  a  lack  of 
finality,  thus  standing  in  direct  contrast  to  the  con- 
vincing firmness  of  tone  which  characterized  "The 
Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel."  With  this  book,  pub- 
lished in  1859,  INIeredith's  period  of  apprenticeship 
came  to  an  end;  his  ten  years  of  experiment  had 
taught  him  that  his  work  must  be  done  in  the  field 
of  novel-writing.  The  classification  of  the  earlier 
writings  of  Meredith  as  experimental,  however,  does 
not  permit  their  immediate  dismissal  from  our  at- 
tention. At  the  time  of  their  publication,  it  is  true, 
he  had  not  determined  his  style,  nor  formulated  his 
philosophy;  but  he  was  WTiting  under  influences 
which  remained  powerful  with  him  for  several  years ; 
he  was  trying  methods  of  expression,  not  a  few  of 
which  became  characteristic  of  his  style;  and  he  was 
giving  voice  to  ideas  which  in  their  later  develop- 
ment caused  many  to  regard  him  as  almost  an 
oracle. 

The  "Poems"  of  1851  made  no  very  distinct  im- 
pression upon  the  public,  though  William  INIichael 
Rossetti  praised  the  book  in  The  Critic,  and  Charles 
Kingsley  reviewed  it  appreciatively  in  Fraser's  Mag- 
azine. The  critics  in  general,  however,  seemed  to 
feel  that  they  were  tempering  justice  with  mercy 
when  they  dealt  INIeredith  the  rather  dubious  and 
disheartening  compliment  of  saying  that  the  poems 
showed  promise.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  really 
deserved  greater  commendation.  Crudities  appeared 
on  almost  every  page,  it  is  true,  but  there  was  none 
the  less  a  spontaneous,  limpid  flow  in  many  of  the 
stanzas,  which  may  be  favorably  compared  with  the 


THE  APPRENTICE  23 

smoothness  of  Tennyson's  first  volume;  and  further- 
more, there  also  appeared  abundant  evidences  of 
a  vigor  of  thought  and  a  boldness  of  diction  which 
more  than  offset  an  occasionally  obvious  strain  after 
originality.  Without  any  endeavor  to  be  nice  in 
making  selections,  one  may  turn  immediately  to  the 
simple  stanzas  which  open  the  poem  called  *'  The 
Sleeping  City." 

"A  princess  in  the  eastern  tale, 
Paced  thro'  a  marble  city  pale. 
And  saw  on  ghastly  shapes  of  stone. 
The  sculptured  life  she  breathed  alone; 

"Saw,  where'er  her  eye  might  range, 
Herself  the  only  child  of  change; 
And  heard  her  echoed  footfall  chime 
Between  Oblivion  and  Time; 

"And  in  the  squares  where  foimtains  played, 
And  up  the  spiral  balustrade, 
Along  the  drowsy  corridors 
Even  to  the  inmost  sleeping  floors, 

"Surveyed  in  wonder  chilled  with  dread. 
The  seemingness  of  Death,  not  dead; 
Life's  semblance  but  without  its  storm 
And  silence  frosting  every  form." 

Here  certainly  is  an  atmosphere  reminding  the 
reader  of  the  success  with  which  Tennyson  drew 
the  loneliness  of  Mariana  in  the  moated  grange,  or 
with  which  Shelley  pictured  the  lovely  lady  of  "The 
Sensitive  Plant. "  But  if  one  is  in  quest  of  the  quality 
of  atmosphere,  one  finds  it  beyond  a  doubt  in  "Will 


24       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

o'  the  Wisp,"  where  the  lightsome  eeririess  of  Hit  and 
rhythm  seems  to  echo  the  mocking  laughter  of 
the  crazy  hobgoblin  flying  over  the  oozy  marshes 
of  the  woods. 

"Follow  me,  follow  me, 
Over  brake  and  imder  tree, 
Thro'  the  bosky  tanglery, 
Brushwood  and  bramble! 

Follow  me,  follow  me, 

Laugh  and  leap  and  scramblel 

Follow,  follow. 

Hill  and  hollow. 

Fosse  and  burrow. 

Fen  and  furrow, 
Down  into  the  bulrush  beds, 
'Midst  the  reeds  and  osier  heads. 
In  the  rushy  soaking  damps. 
Where  the  vapours  pitch  their  camps, 

Follow  me,  follow  me, 
For  a  midnight  ramble! 
"OI  what  a  mighty  fog. 
What  a  merry  night  O  ho! 
Follow,  follow,  nigher,  nigher — 
Over  bank,  and  pond,  and  briar, 
Down  into  the  croaking  ditches. 

Rotten  log. 

Spotted  frog. 

Beetle  bright 

With  crawling  light, 

What  a  joy  O  ho! 
Deep  into  the  purple  bog — 

What  a  joy  O  ho! 

"  Down  we  go,  down  we  go, 

What  a  joy  O  ho! 
Soon  shall  I  be  down  below. 
Plunging  with  a  gray  fat  friar, 


THE  APPRENTICE  25 

Hither,  thither,  to  and  fro. 
Breathing  mists  and  whisking  lamps. 
Plashing  in  the  shiny  swamps; 
While  my  cousin  Lantern  Jack, 
With  cock  ears  and  cunning  eyes, 
Turns  him  round  upon  his  back, 
Daubs  him  oozy  green  and  black, 
Sits  upon  his  rolling  size. 
Where  he  lies,  where  he  lies, 
Groaning  full  of  sack — 
Staring  with  his  great  round  eyes! 

What  a  joy  O  ho! 
Sits  upon  him  in  the  swamps 
Breathing  mists  and  whisking  lampsl 

What  a  joy  O  ho! 
"Such  a  lad  is  Lantern  Jack, 
When  he  rides  the  black  nightmare 
Through  the  fens  and  puts  a  glare 
lu  the  friar's  track. 
Snch  a  frolic  lad,  good  lack! 
To  turn  a  friar  on  his  back. 
Trip  him,  clip  him,  whip  him,  nip  him. 
Lay  him  sprawling  smack! 
Such  a  lad  is  Lantern  Jack! 
Such  a  tricksy  lad,  good  lack! 

What  a  joy  O  ho! 

Follow  me,  follow  me. 
Where  he  sits,  and  you  shall  see!" 

These  lines  recall  the  goblin  passage  in  Milton's 
"  L' Allegro,"  and  suggest,  though  more  remotely,  the 
meeting  of  Shakspeare's  weird  sisters  in  the  cauldron 
scene  of  "Macbeth."  Their  best  analogy  is  found, 
however,  not  in  literature,  but  in  the  kindred  art  of 
music,  where  the  "Humoresken"  of  Grieg  and  the 
"Marche  Grotesque"  of  Arensky  express  the  same 
odd  effervescence  of  spirit. 


26   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Of  an  entirely  different  nature  were  nine  quatrains 
each  dealing  with  the  work  of  one  of  the  greater 
writers  who  preserved  the  true  traditions  of  English 
poetry  from  Chaucer  to  Keats.  Unrhymed,  and  to 
a  certain  extent  careless  of  the  laws  of  metre,  they 
show  a  strength  of  thought  and  a  fullness  of  tone 
somewhat  suggestive  of  Whitman. 

THE   POETRY   OF  MILTON 

Like  to  some  deep-chested  organ  whose  grand  inspiration 
Serenely  majestic  in  utterance,  lofty  and  calm, 
Interprets  to  mortals  with  melody  gieat  as  its  burthen, 
The    mystical    harmonies    chiming  forever  throughout  the 
bright  spheres. 

THE   POETRY   OF  WORDSWORTH 

A  breath  of  the  mountains,  fresh  born  in  the  regions  majestic, 
That  look  with  their  eye-daring  summits  deep  into  the  sky. 
The  voice  of  great  Nature;  sublime  with  her  lofty  conceptions, 
Yet  earnest  and  simple  as  any  sweet  child  of  the  green  lowly  vale. 

Submitted  recently  to  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of 
Wordsworth  in  America,  these  lines  called  forth 
strong  approval;  but  that  Meredith  at  the  age  of 
twenty-one  showed  sufficient  insight  to  write  them, 
cannot  be  looked  upon  as  a  mere  accident.  A  large 
number  of  these  early  poems  have  to  do  with  nature 
themes;  and  that  not  a  few  of  them  might  have 
emanated  from  Dove  Cottage  is  well  instanced,  for 
an  example,  by  the  concluding  verses  of  "The  South- 
west Wind  in  the  Woodland." 

"The  voice  of  Nature  is  abroad 
This  night;  she  fills  the  air  with  balm; 
Her  mystery  is  o'er  the  land; 
And  who  that  hears  her  now  and  yields 


THE  APPRENTICE  27 

His  being  to  her  yearning  tones, 

And  seats  his  soul  upon  her  wings, 

And  broadens  o'er  the  wind-swept  world 

With  her,  will  gather  in  the  flight 

More  knowledge  of  her  secret,  more 

Delight  in  her  beneficence 

Than  hours  of  musing,  or  the  love 

That  lives  with  man,  could  ever  give! 

Nor  will  it  pass  away  when  morn 

Shall  look  upon  the  lulling  leaves 

And  woodland  sunshine,  Eden-sweet, 

Dreams  o'er  the  paths  of  peaceful  shade; — 

For  every  elemental  power 

Is  kindred  to  our  hearts,  and  once 

Acknowledged,  wedded,  once  embraced, 

Once  taken  to  the  unfettered  sense, 

Once  claspt  into  the  naked  life, 

The  union  is  eternal." 

But  Wordsworth  was  not  Meredith's  only  teacher; 
he  learned  also  from  Shakespeare.  Certainly  no 
unprejudiced  reader  can  fail  to  hear  in  the  lyrics 
called  "Spring"  and  "Autumn"  the  haunting  lilt 
of  such  songs  as  "When  Daisies  Pied  and  Violets 
Blue"  in  "Love's  Labour's  Lost"  or  "It  was  a 
Lover  and  His  Lass "  in  "  As  You  Like  It." 

SPRING 

When  buds  of  palm  do  burst  and  spread 

Their  downy  feathers  in  the  lane, 
And  orchard  blossoms,  white  and  red. 

Breathe  Spring  delight  for  Autumn  gain; 

And  the  skylark  shakes  his  wings  in  the  rain; 

Oh  then  is  the  season  to  look  for  a  bride! 

Choose  her  warily,  woo  her  unseen; 
For  the  choicest  maids  are  those  that  hide 

Like  dewy  violets  under  the  green. 


28   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

AUTUMN 

When  nuts  behind  the  hazel-leaf 

Are  brown  as  the  squirrel  that  haunts  them  free, 
And  the  fields  are  rich  with  the  sun-burnt  sheaf, 

'Mid  the  blue  corn-flower  and  the  yellowing  tree; 

And  the  farmer  glows  and  beams  in  his  glee; 

Oh  then  is  the  season  to  wed  thee  a  bride! 

Ere  the  garners  are  filled  and  the  ale-cups  foam; 
For  a  smiling  hostess  is  the  pride 

And  flower  of  every  harvest  home. 

Despite  the  weakness  of  the  ending  of  each  of  the 
poems  just  quoted,  the  verse,  if  not  Shakesperean, 
is  at  least  Elizabethan  in  simplicity  and  sincerity. 
Now  it  happened  that  both  these  terms  were  watch- 
words, though  hardly  in  a  Shakesperean  sense,  with 
the  pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood,  who,  about  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  were  astonishing 
both  the  English  nation  and  themselves  with  their 
new  ideas  in  art  and  literature.  Just  what  the  ac- 
quaintance between  George  Meredith  and  Dante 
Gabriel  Rossetti  may  have  been  when  both  in  1851 
reached  the  age  of  twenty-three,  is  not  very  well- 
kno^ii;  yet  a  connection  between  Rossetti  and  other 
writers  has  been  asserted  on  much  more  dubious 
ground  than  need  be  assumed  for  the  relation  be- 
tween the  chief  pre-Raphaelite  poet  and  Meredith. 
The  Brotherhood,  in  their  commendable  effort  after 
sincerity,  made  the  unfortunate  double  mistake  of 
most  reformers,  that  of  going  too  far,  and  that  of  ignor- 
ing the  corrective  influence  of  common  sense.  Mer- 
edith unfortunately  exhibited  1)oth  the  presuma;)le 


THE  APPRENTICE  29 

merit  and  the  actual  fault,  when  in  urging  his  lady 
to  a  ramble  over  the  fields,  he  wrote  the  lines : 

"Thou  art  no  nun,  veiled  and  vowed;  doomed  to  nourish  a 

withering  pallor! 
City  exotics  beside  thee  would  show  like  bleached  linen  at 

midday 
Hung  upon  hedges  of  eglantine! — " 

Such  a  quotation,  of  course,  cannot  by  itself  prove 
that  Meredith  wrote  under  the  influence  of  Rossetti; 
but  the  eighth  stanza  of  "  Love  in  the  Valley,"  as  it 
appeared  in  the  "Poems"  of  1851,  is  pretty  convinc- 
ing. It  is  Rossetti  through  and  through,  not  indeed 
the  Rossetti  of  "The  Blessed  Damozel,"  but  rather 
the  poet  of  "The  Ballads"  and  the  painter  of 
"The  Annunciation." 

"When  at  dawn  she  wakens,  and  her  face  gazes 

Out  on  the  weather  thro'  the  window  panes, 
Beauteous  she  looks!  like  a  white  water-lily 

Bursting  out  of  bud  on  the  rippled  river-plains. 
When  from  her  bed  she  rises  clothed  from  neck  to  ankle 

In  her  long  nightgown  sweet  as  boughs  of  May 
Beauteous  she  looks!     Like  a  tall  garden  lily 

Pure  from  the  night  and  perfect  for  the  day." 

It  is  easy  to  say  that  the  lines  just  escape  being 
ridiculous;  but  for  the  matter  of  that  the  pre-Ra- 
phaelites  spent  most  of  the  earlier  days  of  their 
movement  in  trying  to  make  such  escape  both  in 
their  poems  and  in  their  paintings.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  are  some  people  who  think  the  stanza 
beautiful,  a  pretty  conclusive  proof  that  there  is  no 
profit  in  disputes  concerning  taste.     Nevertheless,  it 


30   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

would  be  unfair  to  leave  the  impression  that  the 
best  poem  in  the  volume  is  not  better  than  its  weak- 
est part.  Tennyson  and  Rossetti  looked  upon  the 
lyric  with  favor;  and  jNIeredith  himself  cared  suffi- 
ciently for  it  to  subject  it  to  careful  revision  in  1878, 
when  it  appeared  in  Maximilian's  Magazine  for 
October,  and  to  include  it  in  "Poems  and  Lyrics  of 
the  Joy  of  Earth"  published  in  1883.  Even  before 
its  revision,  it  contained  among  others  such  well- 
nigh  perfect  stanzas  as  these: 

"Shy  as  a  squirrel,  and  wayward  as  a  swallow; 

Swift  as  the  swallow  when  athwart  the  western  flood 
Circleting  the  surface  he  meets  his  mirrored  winglets, — 

Is  that  dear  one  in  her  maiden  bud. 
Shy  as  the  squirrel  whose  nest  is  in  the  pine-tops; 

Gentle — ah!  that  she  were  jealous  as  the  dove! 
Full  of  all  the  wildness  of  the  woodland  creatures, 

Happy  in  herself  is  the  maiden  that  I  love! 

"Happy,  happy  time,  when  the  gray  star  twnnkles 

Over  the  fields  all  fresh  with  bloomy  dew; 
^^^len  the  cold-checked  dawn  grows  ruddy  up  the  twilight, 

And  the  gold  sun  wakes,  and  weds  her  in  the  blue. 
Then  when  my  darling  tempts  the  early  breezes, 

She  the  only  star  that  dies  not  with  the  dark! 
Powerless  to  speak  all  the  ardor  of  my  passion 

I  catch  her  little  hand  as  we  listen  to  the  lark." 

Here  indeed  is  the  lyric  cry;  and  its  sweetness  is  all 
Meredith's  own. 

The  fact  that  on  the  whole  these  early  poems 
show  the  influence  of  Wordsworth,  Shakespeare, 
and  Rossetti  may  not  at  first  thought  seem  to 
have  much   bearing  upon   Meredith's  prose  work. 


THE  APPRENTICE  31 

But  as  Nature  is  often  a  determining  force  in  the 
novels,  as  Meredith  professedly  uses  dramatic  meth- 
ods in  presenting  his  characters,  and  as  truth  in 
self-expression  is  one  of  his  principal  teachings, 
it  is  not  without  interest  to  know  that  in  his  very 
earliest  work  he  shows  the  influence,  however  slight 
and  remote,  of  our  chief  nature-poet,  of  our  fore- 
most dramatist,  and  of  a  young  enthusiast  not  un- 
justly called  by  his  contemporaries,  the  apostle  of 
sincerity. 

Meredith's  practice  in  poetic  diction  undoubtedly 
played  an  important  part  in  forming  the  style  of  his 
first  prose  work;  but  the  influence  which  appears  to 
have  been  felt  most  strongly  in  the  writing  of  "The 
Shaving  of  Shagpat"  was  foreign,  rather  than  na- 
tive. There  are,  it  is  true,  striking  resemblances 
between  Meredith's  eastern  tale  and  Beckford's 
"Vathek";  but  the  similarity  is  due  to  their  common 
origin  in  "The  Arabian  Nights"  rather  than  to  any 
study  which  INIeredith  might  have  made  of  Beck- 
ford's  romance.  No  doubt  Meredith  knew  the  elder 
writer's  book,  for  its  popularity  hardly  waned  from 
the  time  of  its  publication  in  17S6  until  well  on 
towards  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century;  and  its 
influence,  moreover,  was  as  openly  admitted  by 
writers,  as  it  was  freely  discussed  by  readers.  Byron, 
for  instance,  did  not  hesitate  to  say  that  he  owed 
certain  parts  of  "Lara,"  of  "The  Corsair"  and  even 
of  "Childe  Harold"  to  Beckford;  and  if  Moore  and 
Southey  flattered  themselves  with  being  more  dis- 
creet, they  did  not  succeed  in  misleading  anybody 
by    their    silence.     Under    these    circumstances,    it 


32       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

may  be  concluded  that  probably  Beckford's  stories 
suggested  possibilities  to  IMeredith.  However  that 
may  be,  it  still  remains  true  that  "The  Shaving  of 
Shagpat"  is  more  nearly  like  "The  x\rabian 
Nights"  than  like  "Vathek,"  and  that  it  is  also 
much  better  sustained  throughout  than  is  Beckford's 
work.  In  execution,  like  its  eastern  predecessor, 
I^-Ieredith's  extravaganza  shuts  up  one  story  inside 
another,  much  as  do  those  magic  boxes  sometimes 
brought  from  the  Orient;  while  its  exuberance  of 
detail,  its  brilliancy  of  color,  and  its  quickness  of 
movement  present  the  alternating  chaos  and  order  of 
the  kaleidoscope.  Successful,  however,  as  the  book 
is  on  the  whole,  it  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  dis- 
cernible here  and  there  an  artificiality,  a  suggestion 
of  the  author  playing  the  showman,  which  prevents 
the  reader's  mistaking  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat" 
for  the  thousand-and-second  tale  of  Scheherazade. 

The  character  of  IMeredith's  Arabian  entertain- 
ment, as  he  called  it,  permitted  or  perhaps  even  de- 
manded the  use  of  an  ornate  and  florid  style;  yet 
the  luxuriant  profusion  of  figures,  indicative  of  an 
unusually  fertile  imagination,  the  gorgeous  display 
of  sparkling  diction  due  to  a  glowing  appreciation  of 
color  and  form,  and  the  smooth  flowing  cadences 
traceable  only  to  accuracy  in  the  author's  understand- 
ing of  tone,  were  so  well  managed  as  to  save  Mere- 
dith from  falling  into  the  production  of  that  mongrel 
kind  of  shilly-shally  waiting  called  "poetic  prose." 
The  frequent  use  of  metaphor  and  simile  in  the  book, 
no  doubt,  had  something  to  do  with  awakening  in 
Meredith  that  predilection  for  figurative  language 


THE  APPRENTICE  33 

which  often  laid  his  later  books  open  to  the  charge 
of  obscurity;  but  in  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat,  at 
least,  the  motive  for  each  figure  is  obvious;  and  vi^hen 
one  is  introduced,  it  is  sufficiently  developed  to  pre- 
vent any  misconception  of  the  author's  meaning.  In 
the  later  works,  on  the  contrary,  Meredith  often  in- 
volves one  trope  in  another,  until  the  reader  in  his 
confusion  drops  the  thread  which  is  his  only  means 
of  escape  from  the  beautiful  but  tangled  maze. 
Hardly  less  frequent  than  the  figures  of  speech 
which  wind  through  these  stories  are  the  flashes  of  di- 
rect and  ironic  wit  which  illuminate  nearly  every  page. 
The  book  is  bright  with  sharp  epigrams  and  strong 
aphorisms  which  pale  only  beside  the  scintillating 
brilliancy  of  "The  Pilgrim's  Scrip,"  in  "The  Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel."  Hardly  separable  from  this 
wit  is  a  humor  which  forces  the  reader  near  to  im- 
moderate laughter.  The  history  of  the  doleful 
thwackinsrs  which  befel  Shibli  Bagarag  in  the  citv  of 
Shagpat  the  clothier,  the  shameful  punishments 
which  Shahpesh  the  Persian  visited  upon  Khipil  the 
builder,  and  the  frightful  agonies  which  were  suf- 
fered by  Baba  Mustapha  through  the  persecutions 
of  the  Genie  Karaz  in  the  form  of  a  flea,  are  per- 
haps as  ludicrous  as  anything  English  literature  can 
show  in  the  field  of  sheer  fun.  The  story,  of  course, 
is  written  in  mock-heroic  vein,  and  is  full  of  whims 
and  absurdities,  which  are  often  expressed  in  lan- 
guage purposely  grandiose  and  inflated;  but  there 
are,  none  the  less,  passages  of  true  pathos  and  un- 
usual beauty.  Certainly  to  one  who  is  moved  by 
the  charm  of  an  exquisite  mingling  of  melodious 


34   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

words  informed  by  noble  thoughts  and  poetic  feel- 
ing, "The  Lily  of  the  Enchanted  Sea"  is  altogether 
lovely,  and  "The  Story  of  Bhanavar  the  Beautiful" 
is  well-nigh  perfect  from  beginning  to  end. 

Of  the  many  phases  of  beauty  appearing  in  "The 
Shaving  of  Shagpat,"  the  treatment  which  INIeredith 
accorded  to  nature  is  not  least  important  The 
book  has  numerous  bits  of  landscape  description, 
although,  rather  surprisingly,  sustained  passages  of 
this  sort  are  few.  After  the  amount  of  attention 
given  to  nature  in  the  early  book  of  poems,  Meredith 
might  have  been  expected  to  show  growth  in  a  power 
already  possessed  in  a  high  degree;  and,  further- 
more, taking  into  consideration  the  attention  paid 
to  nature  in  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel,"  a 
reader  wonders  why  Meredith  allowed  this  field  of 
his  art  to  lie  so  nearly  fallow  even  for  a  time.  But 
despite  the  apparent  neglect  on  his  part,  he  did  ex- 
hibit a  tendency  towards  what  became  an  important 
element  in  his  later  work.  This  was  his  recognition 
of  a  sympathetic  connection  between  Nature  and 
Man,  that  is  of  a  dynamic  relationship  between 
scene  and  character  which  through  interaction  are 
made  to  gain  from  each  other.  This  treatment  of 
Nature  was  indeed  not  new  in  literature,  for  Shake- 
speare used  it  frequently,  and  Tennyson  cultivated 
it  carefully.  Scott,  too,  recognized  its  value,  but  it 
is  safe  to  say  that  it  has  been  more  fully  developed 
by  Meredith  than  by  any  other  English  novelist. 

Still  another  tendency,  although  not  connected 
with  the  preceding  in  any  way  save  in  time  and  place 
of  appearance,  was  the  use  of  a  device  which  has 


THE  APPRENTICE  35 

come  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  characteristic  of  Mer- 
edith's novels.  It  consists  in  the  formal  introduction 
of  a  proverb,  a  stanza  of  poetry,  or  even  a  prose 
passage  of  some  length,  as  a  kind  of  general  criticism 
upon  the  conduct  of  the  characters.  By  this  is  meant 
not  the  method  frequently  employed  by  Thackeray 
and  George  Eliot  and  sometimes  by  Meredith  him- 
self, that  of  suddenly  appearing  upon  the  stage  for 
the  purpose  of  calling  attention  to  the  actors  or 
perhaps  of  pointing  a  moral;  but  rather  the  method 
of  the  old  Greek  drama  in  which  the  chorus  com- 
ments as  fate  upon  the  meaning  of  the  impulses,  the 
words,  and  the  deeds  of  the  men  and  women  in  the 
play.  Occurring  but  occasionally  in  "The  Shaving 
of  Shagpat,"  this  device  almost  ran  riot  in  "The 
Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel."  Thereafter,  Meredith 
was  more  restrained  in  its  use,  but  the  tendency  reap- 
peared in  "  Sandra  Belloni "  and  in  "  The  Egoist,"  and 
became  pronounced  in  "The  Amazing  Marriage." 

These  comments  as  they  occur  in  "The  Shaving 
of  Shagpat"  have  a  second  significance  probably  not 
dreamed  of  by  Meredith  in  writing  them.  Usually 
in  this  particular  story  they  take  the  form  of  quat- 
rains, which  in  spite  of  a  difference  in  the  succession 
of  rhymes,  are  a  curious  anticipation  of  Omar 
Khayyam  as  translated  by  Edward  Fitzgerald.  A 
few  stanzas  taken  at  hazard  are  convincing. 

"The  curse  of  sorrow  is  comparison! 

As  the  sun  casteth  shade,  night  showeth  star, 
We,  measuring  what  we  were  by  what  we  are, 
Behold  the  depth  to  which  we  are  undone." 


36   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

"On  different  heads  misfortunes  come: 
One  bears  them  firm,  another  faints, 
While  this  one  hangs  them  hke  a  drum 
Whereon  to  batter  loud  complaints." 

"Thou  that  dreamest  an  event. 
While  Circumstance  is  but  a  waste  of  sand, 
Arise,  take  up  thy  fortunes  in  thy  hand, 

And  daily  forward  pitch  thy  tent." 

Although  Fitzgerald's  translation  of  Omar  Khayyam 
was  published  in  1859,  three  years  after  the  appear- 
ance of  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat,"  it  is  known  to 
have  been  circulated  in  manuscript  for  some  time 
before  it  was  printed.  There  is  no  evidence,  how- 
ever, that  either  of  the  writers  actually  borrowed 
from  the  other,  though  the  striking  similarity  of 
tone  between  the  two  works  is,  to  say  the  least, 
interesting. 

The  lot  which  has  befallen  ^Meredith  of  always 
being  taken  too  seriously  or  not  seriously  enough 
is  evidenced  in  the  two  or  three  attempts  that  have 
been  made  to  interpret  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat" 
allegorically.  To  the  most  recent,  it  is  said,  Mere- 
dith courteously  replied  that  the  elaborate  exposi- 
tion recalled  some  of  the  thoughts  which  he  had  t\  hen 
writing  the  fantasy,  but  that  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
book  was  no  more  an  allegory  than  Crummies 
was  a  Prussian.  This  commentator  might  have 
been  spared  his  work,  interesting  as  he  undoubtedly 
found  it,  had  he  been  acquainted  with  the  second 
edition  of  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat."  This  ap- 
peared in  1865  and  contained  a  Prefatory  Note  de- 


THE  APPRENTICE  37 

nying  that  the  story  was  susceptible  of  any  esoteric 
interpretation.  The  note  is  not  reprinted  in  edi- 
tions now  accessible;  characteristic  of  Meredith,  how- 
ever, it  well  deserves  reproduction. 

"It  has  been  suggested  to  me  by  one  who  has  no 
fear  of  Allegories  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  that  the 
hairy  Shagpat  must  stand  to  mean  umbrageous 
Humbug  conquering  the  sons  of  men;  and  that 
Noorna  bin  Noorka  represents  the  seasons,  which 
help  us,  if  there  is  health  in  us,  to  dispel  the  afflic- 
tion of  his  shadow;  while  my  heroic  Shibli  Bagarag 
is  actually  to  be  taken  for  Circumstance,  which 
works  under  their  changeful  guidance  towards  our 
ultimate  release  from  bondage,  but  with  a  disap- 
pointing apparent  waywardness.  The  excuse  for 
such  behavior  as  this  youth  exhibits,  is  so  good 
that  I  would  willingly  let  him  wear  the  grand  masque 
hereby  offered  to  him.  But,  though  his  backslidings 
cry  loudly  for  some  sheltering  plea,  or  garb  of  dig- 
nity, and  though  a  story-teller  should  be  flattered 
to  have  it  supposed  that  anything  very  distinct  was 
intended  by  him,  the  Allegory  must  be  rejected  al- 
together. The  subtle  Ai-ab  who  conceived  Shagpat, 
meant  either  very  much  more,  or  he  meant  less;  and 
my  belief  is,  that,  designing  in  his  wisdom  simply 
to  amuse,  he  attempted  to  give  a  larger  embrace  to 
time  than  is  possible  to  the  profound  dispenser  of 
Allegories,  which  are  mortal;  which,  to  be  of  any 
value,  must  be  perfectly  clear,  and  when  perfectly 
clear,  are  as  little  attractive  as  Mrs.  Malaprop's 
reptile." 

Of  more  importance  than  either  the   meanings 


38   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

which  have  been  read  into  "  The  Shaving  of  Shagpat," 
or  the  beginnings  of  those  pecuHarities  of  expression 
which  became  a  striking  characteristic  of  the  later 
works,  or  even  those  possible  sources  and  influence 
which  are  easier  to  assert  than  to  prove,  is  the 
promulgation  of  principles  which  Meredith  in  after 
years  used  as  more  or  less  important  parts  of  a  con- 
sistent system  of  philosophy.  Character  with  him 
no  less  than  with  Shakespeare  is  the  source  of  destiny. 
A  man's  conduct  in  a  crisis  is  determined  by  his 
previous  thoughts  and  acts.  Pride  and  cowardice, 
avarice  and  fear  as  surely  bring  to  nothing,  as  cour- 
age and  faithfulness,  honor  and  humility  lead  to 
triumph.  Egoism,  the  undue  worship  of  the  per- 
ishable self;  sentimentalism,  the  elevation,  according 
to  Meredith,  of  the  constantly  changing  conven- 
tional above  the  "  eternal  verities,"  are  perhaps  for 
a  time  their  own  exceeding  great  reward;  but  the 
ironic  laughter  of  truth  is  heard  at  last,  the  illusions 
are  dispelled,  and  the  king  is  glad  to  propitiate  the 
people  by  the  voluntary  resignation  of  the  crown  to 
Shibli  Bagarag,  the  Master  of  the  Event.  The 
words  of  the  sage  are  indeed  seen  to  be  the  w^ords  of 
wisdom  when  he  says: 

"Power,  on  Illusion  based  o'ertoppeth  all; 
The  more  disastrous  is  its  certain  fall!" 

But  the  mere  recognition  of  a  truth  does  not  bring 
salvation,  nor  having  touched  success  at  one  point 
may  the  race  of  mankind  be  content. 

"  For  the  mastery  of  an  event  lasteth  among  men 
the  space  of  one  cycle  of  years,  and  after  that  a  fresh 


THE  APPRENTICE  39 

Illusion  springeth  to  befool  mankind.  ...  As  the 
poet  declareth  in  his  scorn: 

'Some  doubt  eternity;  from  life  begun, 
Has  folly  ceased  within  them,  sire  to  son? 
So,  ever  fresh  Illusions  will  arise 
And  lord  creation,  until  men  are  wise.' 

And  he  adds: 

'That  is  a  distant  period;  so  prepare 
To  fight  the  false,  O  youths,  and  never  spare! 
For  who  would  live  in  chronicles  renowned 
Must  combat  folly,  or  as  fool  be  crowned.'  " 

Of  the  many  illusions  which  are  constantly  ham- 
pering mankind  in  its  advance  toward  full  perfec- 
tion, Meredith,  judged  by  all  his  writings,  from  be- 
ginning to  end,  seems  to  look  upon  the  conventional 
attitude  towards  women  as  the  most  stubborn, — 
as  an  Event,  indeed,  to  an  assistance  in  the  mastery 
of  which  he  himself  has  heard  no  uncertain  call. 
Even  in  this  early  work  he  did  not  hesitate  to  take 
the  stand  that  without  the  aid  of  woman,  man  must 
leave  much  undone,  since  from  her  chidings  he 
learns  many  things,  and  through  her  encouragement 
he  becomes  strengthened  to  retrieve  his  errors  and 
to  save  himself  from  complete  overthrow.  Indeed, 
so  strongly  does  Meredith  insist  upon  these  doc- 
trines, that  he  may  himself  be  regarded  as  the  Sage 
who  said  in  speaking  of  the  Laws  made  in  honor  of 
Noorna  by  Shibli  Bagarag  for  the  protection  and 
upholding  of  woman, 

"Were  men  once  clad  in  them,  we  should  create 
A  race  not  following,  but  commanding,  fate." 


40       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Serious  as  some  of  these  teaching  are,  however, 
"The  Shaving  of  Shagpat"  is  on  the  whole  to  be  re- 
garded as  an  extravaganza  in  both  thought  and  ex- 
pression ;  yet  even  from  that  point  of  view,  the  work 
has  to  be  taken  more  seriously  than  the  story  which 
immediately  followed  it.  "Farina"  bubbles  with 
laughter  from  beginning  to  end;  and  the  reader 
seems  to  hear  the  author  calling  out  from  every 
page  "That's  the  fun  of  it!"  Only  once  in  later 
life  did  Meredith  give  another  exhibition  of  such  un- 
restrained humor;  but  "The  Case  of  General  Ople 
and  Lady  Camper"  has  nothing  in  common  with 
"Farina"  save  the  jester's  spirit  which  animates 
both.  The  story  of  the  retired  oflBcer  with  his  "gen- 
tlemanly residence"  and  of  the  lady  who  reformed 
both  his  speech  and  his  manners,  is  an  episode  in 
recent  English  social  life;  but  the  history  of  the  siege 
which  Farina  laid  to  the  heart  of  Margarita  is  a 
German  romance  of  the  Middle  Ages.  It  is  a  rol- 
licking tale  of  love  and  adventure,  of  blood  and 
thunder,  of  kidnappings  and  rescues,  of  maidens 
and  duennas,  of  knights  and  robbers,  of  saints  and 
sinners,  of  nixies  and  devils,  and,  indeed,  of  pretty 
nearly  everything  in  heaven  above,  in  the  earth  be- 
neath, or  in  the  waters  under  the  earth.  Its  super- 
natural elements  suggest  the  pseudo-Gothic  romances 
of  Horace  Walpole  and  Ann  Radcliffe ;  its  ridicule  of 
the  chivalry  of  mediaeval  Germany  recalls  the  picar- 
esque novel  as  modified  by  Cervantes;  the  Water- 
Lady  is  own  sister  to  Fouque's  Undine;  and  Aunt 
Lisbeth,  judged  from  her  suspicious  watch  over 
Margarita,  must  have  learned  her  lesson  in  the  same 


THE  APPRENTICE  41 

school  with  the  Aunts  von  Landshort  who  guarded 
the  heiress  of  Katzenellenbogen  in  Washington  Irv- 
ing's  story  of  "The  Spectre  Bridegroom."  But  sug- 
gestive as  the  story  is  of  other  authors'  creations, 
the  probabihty  of  its  actually  owing  anything  what- 
ever to  Meredith's  contemporaries  or  predecessors 
is  very  remote.  The  most  that  can  be  said  with  cer- 
tainty is  that  "Farina"  was  Meredith's  first  book  to 
show  any  traceable  influence  of  his  school  days  in 
Germany. 

The  style  of  "Farina"  is  much  less  ornate  than 
that  of  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat,"  the  character 
and  the  setting  both  demanding  a  pruning  of  the 
diction  which  was  fully  appropriate  to  the  earlier 
work.  On  the  other  hand  the  burlesque  facetious- 
ness,  at  times  approaching  audacious  nonsense, 
finds  fitting  expression  in  words  and  turns  of  phras- 
ing best  described  as  piquant  and  quaint.  Wit  and 
humor  play  as  freely  here  as  in  the  story  of  Shibli 
Bagarag's  adventures,  but  there  is  a  noticeable  ab- 
sence of  pathos.  The  sayings  of  the  Minnesingers 
serve  the  purpose  of  the  Greek  Chorus,  as  did  the 
verses  of  the  sage  in  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat;" 
and  now  and  then  there  is  a  glint  of  the  philosophy 
emphasized  in  the  preceding  book,  such,  for  instance, 
as  the  corrective  power  of  laughter,  the  inevitable 
fall  that  waits  on  pride,  and  the  foolishness  of  plac- 
ing the  conventional  above  the  absolute.  On  the 
whole,  however,  a  decided  increase  in  power  of  de- 
scription is  perhaps  the  most  important  advance 
which  Meredith  made  in  this  story.  Not  as  yet,  it  is 
true,  did  he  show  himself  an  artist  in  sustained  pas- 


42       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

sages,  but  he  exhibited  an  unusual  skill  in  painting 
a  picture  with  a  few  strokes;  and,  rather  strangely, 
most  of  these  have  the  Rembrandt-like  character- 
istic of  possessing  a  single  point  of  light.  Two 
scenes,  the  first  from  "The  Lilies  of  the  Valley," 
the  second  from  "The  Silver  Arrow"  adequately 
show  this  new  development  of  jNIeredith's  genius, 

"The  moon  was  dipping  down,  and  paler,  as  if 
touched  with  a  warning  of  dawn.  Chill  sighs  from 
the  open  land  passed  through  the  city.  On  certain 
colored  gables  and  wood-crossed  fronts,  the  white 
light  lingered;  but  mostly  the  houses  were  veiled  in 
dusk,  and  Gottlieb's  house  was  confused  in  the 
twilight  with  those  of  his  neighbors,  notwithstanding 
its  greater  stateliness,  and  the  old  grandeur  of  its 
timbered  bulk." 

"They  wound  down  numberless  intersections  of 
narrow  streets  with  irregular-built  houses  standing 
or  leaning  wry-faced  in  row,  here  a  quaint-beamed 
cottage,  there  almost  a  mansion  with  gilt  arms, 
brackets,  and  devices.  Oil  lamps  unlit  hung  at 
intervals  by  the  corners  near  a  pale  Christ  on  cruci- 
fix. Across  the  passages  they  hung  alight.  The 
passages  and  alleys  were  too  dusky  and  close  for 
the  moon  in  her  brightest  ardor  to  penetrate; 
down  the  streets  a  slender  lane  of  white  beams  could 
steal.  .  .  .  After  incessant  doubling  here  and  there, 
listening  to  footfalls,  and  themselves  eluding  a  chase 
which  their  suspicious  movements  aroused,  they 
came  upon  the  Rhine.  A  full  flood  of  moonlight 
burnished  the  knightly  river  in  glittering  scales,  and 


i 


THE  APPRENTICE  43 

plates,  and  rings,  as  headlong  it  rolled  seaward  on 
from  under  crag  and  banner  of  old  chivalry  and 
rapine.  Both  greeted  the  scene  with  a  burst  of 
pleasure.  The  gray  mist  of  flats  on  the  south  side 
glimmered  delightful  in  their  sight,  coming  from 
that  drowsy  crowd  and  press  of  habitations;  but  the 
solemn  glory  of  the  river,  delaying  not,  heedless, 
impassioned — pouring  on  in  some  sublime  confer- 
ence between  it  and  heaven  to  the  great  marriage  of 
waters — deeply  shook  Farina's  enamoured  heart. 
The  youth  could  not  restrain  his  tears,  as  if  a  magic 
wand  had  touched  him.  He  trembled  with  love; 
and  that  delicate  bliss  which  maiden  hope  first  show- 
ers upon  us  like  a  silver  rain  when  she  has  taken 
the  shape  of  some  young  beauty  and  plighted  us  her 
fair  fleeting  hand,  tenderly  embraced  him." 

With  "  Farina,"  Meredith  ended  his  work  as  mere 
apprentice,  and  during  the  next  two  years  gave  his 
attention  to  the  composition  of  "The  Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel.  Still,  although  the  "Poems"  of 
1851,  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat,"  and  "Farina" 
are  to  be  regarded  as  belonging  to  the  period  of 
experiment  and  preparation,  their  importance  is  not 
slight.  Therein  are  discernible  the  determining  in- 
fluence of  two  or  three  great  writers,  the  beginnings 
of  a  powerful  and  unusual  style,  the  first  applica- 
tions of  methods  new  to  English  fiction,  and  certain 
fundamental  ideas  in  a  remarkable  philosophy.  In 
studying  the  growth  of  an  author's  genius,  such 
things  as  these  cannot  be  ignored,  although  the  aver- 
age reader  may  look  upon  them  as  of  little  value. 
But  even  he,  however,  though  he  cares  nothing  about 


44   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

the  genesis  of  a  style,  or  the  institutes  of  a  philosophy 
can  well  afford  to  take  down  the  early  stories  of 
Meredith  and  spend  a  little  time  with  Shibli  Bagarag 
as  he  proves  himself  worthy  of  the  love  of  Noorna 
bin  Noorka,  or  with  Farina  and  the  Goshawk  while 
they  rescue  Margarita  from  the  clutches  of  Baron 
Werner  and  his  robber  band. 


Ill 

THE  JOURNEYMAN 

ASSIMILATED  INFLUENCES — "tHE  ORDEAL  OF  RICH- 
ARD feverel" — "evan  Harrington" — "sandra 

BELLONI " — "  VITTORIA" — "  RHODA    FLEMING." 

The  journeyman  differs  from  the  apprentice 
mainly  in  that  he  has  discovered  the  bent  of  his 
genius,  and  is  consciously  possessed  of  power  and 
skill.  From  observation  and  practice  he  has  gained 
a  certain  self-confidence,  and  believes  that  he  ought 
to  be  trusted  to  do  ordinary  work  well;  but  if  he 
has  the  making  of  a  master-workman  in  him,  this 
self-confidence  does  not  let  him  fall  into  the  trap 
of  thinking  that  he  has  nothing  more  to  learn.  On 
the  contrary,  he  still  studies  whatever  has  met  with 
general  approval,  but  he  is  now  animated  by  a  de- 
sire to  become  acquainted  with  methods  and  means 
rather  than  with  results.  The  old  inquiry  of  his 
apprenticeship,  what  must  be  imitated  that  proper 
training  may  be  effected,  gives  way  to  the  deeper 
and  more  important  questions,  how  was  this  work 
done,  and  to  what  extent  may  the  same  methods  be 
followed  without  the  sacrifice  of  originality.  He 
gets  his  answer,  much  as  he  did  in  earlier  days, 
through  experiment  and  imitation;  but  it  is  through 


46       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

experiment  of  a  higher  kind,  and  through  imitations 
of  a  rarer  sort.  No  longer  satisfied  with  the  sim- 
ple reproduction  of  what  he  has  seen,  he  strives  to 
express  his  own  ideas  as  completely  as  he  may  with- 
out violating  long  accepted  traditions  and  well  au- 
thenticated principles.  As  a  result,  what  he  now 
places  before  the  world,  although  it  may  still  be  sug- 
gestive of  the  work  of  others,  is  far  from  being 
a  mere  resemblance.  In  other  words,  the  process 
of  absorption  is  replaced  by  that  of  assimilation,  and 
he  is  thus  enabled  to  turn  to  his  task  with  ever  in- 
creasing energy,  in  the  hope  that  he  may  yet  produce 
a  masterpiece  which  shall  give  lasting  joy  to  both 
maker  and  user. 

The  apprenticeship  of  Meredith  seems  to  have 
been  spent  in  a  pretty  close  study  of  English,  Arabian, 
and  German  models;  but  there  came  a  time  when 
the  young  author,  after  having  fully  decided  to  de- 
vote himself  to  novel  writing,  felt  that  he  might  trust 
somewhat  freely  to  his  own  originality.  Not  so  self- 
confident,  however,  as  to  consider  himself  a  master- 
workman,  he  did  not  wholly  emancipate  himself 
from  the  influence  of  other  authors,  but  spent  his 
time  upon  four  or  five  works  which  have  much  in 
common  with  the  writings  of  his  predecessors,  Rich- 
ardson, Fielding,  and  Sterne,  and  with  those  of  his 
contemporaries,  Dickens,  Thackeray,  and  George 
Eliot.  This  does  not  mean  that  Meredith  merely 
copied  these  authors,  nor  that  he  deliberately  bor- 
rowed from  them.  Indeed,  whatever  charges  the 
most  hostile  critics  have  brought  against  him,  none 
have  taken  it  upon  themselves  to  accuse  him  very 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  47 

loudly  of  plagiarism,  but  have  rather  gone  to  the 
opposite  extreme,  insisting  that  in  his  self-sufficiency 
he  refused  to  learn  from  those  who  could  have  taught 
him  much.  Writers  of  such  criticism  would  have 
said  far  less,  had  they  known  a  little  more.  The  true 
student  of  Meredith,  whether  admirer  or  not,  plainly 
sees  that  the  earlier  novels,  at  least,  are  the  resultant 
of  some  of  the  most  important  forces  in  the  world 
of  English  letters.  Appropriating  whatever  he 
deemed  admirable,  wherever  he  could  find  it,  Mere- 
dith, either  consciously  or  unconsciously,  turned  such 
material  to  account,  first,  however,  so  thoroughly 
assimilating  it,  that  in  its  transformation  it  appeared 
wholly  his  own.  Indebtedness  thus  incurred  is  by 
no  means  censurable.  Meredith  simply  used  a 
method  which  has  been  characteristic  of  the  great- 
est authors  from  Homer  to  Moliere,  from  Chaucer 
to  Browning.  Indeed,  it  is  not  impossible  that  an 
overscrupulous  care  to  be  original  from  every  point 
of  view,  is  the  mark  of  a  second-rate  mind  rather  than 
of  a  genius. 

For  any  young  novelist  writing  during  the  middle 
years  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  have  wholly  re- 
jected what  his  surroundings  abundantly  offered 
would  have  been  well-nigh  impossible.  So  far  as 
Meredith  is  concerned,  the  corrective  power  of  his 
genius  fortunately  saved  him  from  mere  imitation, 
and  helped  him  to  the  preservation  of  an  original 
and  striking  individuality.  Nevertheless,  his  envi- 
ronment was  not  without  its  disadvantages.  At  a 
time  of  great  intellectual  activity,  the  chorus  of 
those  who  have  gained  the  attention  of  the  public  is 


48       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

often  so  overpowering,  as  to  drown  the  voice  of  any 
new  aspirant  to  fame;  and  this  was  the  unfortunate 
lot  which  befell  Meredith  when  he  published  "The 
Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel."  In  1859,  readers  ask- 
ing for  the  newest  books  could  make  choice  of  Dick- 
ens's "Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  Thackeray's  "Virgin- 
ians," Trollope's  "Bertrams,"  Reade's  "Love  me 
Little,  Love  Me  Long,"  Fitzgerald's  translation  of 
the  "Rubaiyat,"  Darwin's  "Origin  of  Species,"  and 
Mill's  "Essay  on  Liberty."  Moreover,  during  the 
same  year,  occurred  the  deaths  of  Leigh  Hunt,  Ma- 
caulay,  De  Quincey,  and  Hallam,  thus  giving  the 
pessimist  some  excuse  for  shaking  his  head  and 
mourning  over  the  irreparable  thinning  in  the  ranks 
of  literary  men.  Certainly  the  minds  of  those  inter- 
ested in  books  and  authors  were  taken  up  with  many 
things;  and  it  is  therefore  little  surprising  that, 
despite  several  favorable  reviews,  the  first  edition 
of  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  supplied  all 
demands  for  nineteen  years.  But  whatever  disap- 
pointment Meredith  may  have  felt  over  the  recep- 
tion accorded  his  first  novel,  its  publication  was  an 
important  event  in  his  career.  It  showed  conclusively 
that  he  was  ready  to  abandon  such  cherry-stone  carv- 
ing as  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat,"  and  that  he  was 
suflSciently  sure  of  himself  to  enter  into  competition 
with  other  novelists,  and  to  submit  to  measurement 
by  their  standards. 

"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel,"  was  followed 
as  rapidly  as  careful  work  would  permit  by  "Evan 
Harrington,"  "Sandra  Belloni,"  "Rhoda  Fleming," 
and  "  Vittoria,"  all  of  which,  as  has  been  said,  pos- 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  49 

sess  in  common  at  least  one  characteristic,  that  of 
recalHng  the  writings  of  other  authors.  This  sugges- 
tiveness,  however,  is  much  stronger  in  some  cases 
than  in  others.  Sometimes  it  is  a  feature  of  style; 
often  it  is  a  similarity  of  incident,  or  a  likeness  in 
character-drawing;  now  and  then  it  is  almost  safe 
to  say  that  a  certain  personage  could  not  have  been 
created,  had  it  not  been  for  the  existence  of  some 
other  novelist's  work;  and  occasionally  striking  par- 
allels of  considerable  length  can  be  pointed  out 
between  Meredith  and  others.  True  as  these  state- 
ments are,  however,  the  influence  which  predecessors 
and  contemporaries  seem  to  have  exerted  upon  Mere- 
dith is  to  be  felt  rather  than  seen.  Often  there  is 
no  more  than  a  whiff  or  a  tang  of  the  borrowed 
flavor,  and  even  these  are  lost  as  soon  as  tasted. 
Clearly,  anything  so  evanescent  will  hardly  bear 
much  insistence.  Still  if  Meredith  himself  should 
rise  up  in  protest,  and  assert  that  he  was  uncon- 
scious of  any  outside  influences  whatever,  the  com- 
parison would  still  remain  true  and  have  a  certain 
interesting  value. 

When  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  ap- 
peared, some  reviews  called  it  a  Shandean  romance, 
and  others  said  that  it  betrayed  the  influence  of 
Bulwer's  "Caxtons":  nor  can  it  be  denied  that  the 
critics  had  some  warrant  for  their  statements.  Rich- 
ard Feverel's  Uncle  Algernon  had  been  a  gentle- 
man of  the  Guards,  but  had  unfortunately  lost  his  leg 
as  the  result  of  an  injury  received  in  a  cricket  match; 
Pisistratus  Caxton's  uncle  Roland  had  lost  a  leg 
at  the  battle  of  Waterloo;  and  Tristram  Shandy's 


50       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Uncle  Toby  had  been  severely  wounded  in  the  leg 

at  the  siege  of  Namur.  Now,  of  course,  the  presence  of 
one-legged  uncles  in  novels  hardly  constitutes  a  simi- 
larity which  is  to  be  taken  as  other  than  accidental; 
but  in  addition,  all  the  uncles  and,  even  more,  all 
the  fathers  in  these  three  stories  had  various  hobbies, 
not  the  least  important  of  which  were  their  remark- 
able ideas  of  how  the  several  young  heirs  should  be 
brought  up.  Sterne  refers  more  than  once  with 
some  humor  to  what  he  calls  the  Shandean  system 
of  Tristram's  father;  and  ISIeredith  is  constantly 
pointing  the  finger  of  scorn  at  Sir  Austin's  theories 
and  their  application.  In  the  first  book,  too,  there 
are  passages  descriptive  of  the  elder  Shandy,  which 
might  almost  have  been  written  of  Sir  Austin,  "It 
is  the  nature  of  an  hypothesis,"  says  Sterne  in  the 
character  of  his  hero,  "  that  it  assimilates  everything 
to  itself,  as  proper  nourishment,"  a  sentence  cer- 
tainly applicable  to  the  Baronet's  suspicious  and 
condemnatory  train  of  thought,  when  he  was  nurs- 
ing his  wrath  against  Richard  for  marrying  Lucy. 
"  There  are  a  thousand  unnoticed  openings  which  let 
a  penetrating  eye  into  a  man's  soul,"  says  Sterne, 
thereby  expressing  an  aphorism  worthy  of  a  place  in 
"The  Pilgrim's  Scrip,"  and  at  the  same  time  furnish- 
ing a  terse  anticipatory  comment  upon  Sir  Austin's 
unsuccessful  endeavor  to  entrench  himself  in  studied 
and  unnatural  reserve. 

The  elder  Caxton,  whose  name,  by  the  way,  was 
shortened  from  Augustine  to  the  more  familiar 
Austin,  like  the  fathers  of  Tristram  and  of  Richard, 
also  used  a  system  in  bringing  up  his  son.     He  had 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  51 

a  method,  however,  which  stood  in  direct  contrast 
with  that  of  the  lord  of  Raynham  Abbey.  Pisis- 
tratus  was  sent  to  school  that  by  mingling  with  his 
fellows  he  might  become  a  man,  Richard  was  kept 
at  home  that  he  might  escape  the  corruption  which 
Sir  Austin  thought  to  be  rife  in  educational  institu- 
tions; the  former  was  allowed  the  greatest  freedom, 
the  latter  was  under  constant  surveillance,  for  it  was 
a  fundamental  theory  with  Sir  Austin  that  "young 
lads  might  by  parental  vigilance  be  kept  secure 
from  the  Serpent  until  Eve  sided  with  him — a 
period  that  might  be  deferred,  he  said."  Both  par- 
ents hoped  to  retain  the  confidence  of  their  sons  by 
inviting  it  at  every  opportunity,  and  by  assisting, 
though  not  dictating,  in  the  choice  between  good  and 
evil.  In  carrying  out  the  plan,  Austin  Caxton  never 
for  a  moment  forgot  that  he  was  dealing  with  a  human 
being,  and  through  this  sanity  of  attitude  he  was  able 
to  keep  his  child  as  a  companion  until  the  end ;  but, 
in  the  words  of  Adrian  Harley,  "Sir  Austin  wished 
to  be  Providence  to  his  son,"  and  only  at  fleeting 
intervals  entertaining  "a  thought  that  he  was  fight- 
ing with  fate  in  his  beloved  boy,"  he  failed  at  the 
crucial  moment,  and  there  was  an  end  to  true  con- 
fidence between  father  and  son. 

Yet  Sir  Austin  deserves  our  sympathy.  His  love 
for  Richard  was  really  deep  and  strong,  and  he  did 
nothing  but  what  in  his  blindness  he  thought  was  for 
the  best.  Demon-ridden  by  the  Great  Shaddock 
doctrine,  and  marked  by  the  "total  absence  of  the 
humorous  in  himself  (the  want  that  most  shut  him 
out  from  his  fellows),"  he  was  unhappily  without 


52       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

the  faculty  of  laughter.  "For  a  good  wind  of 
laughter,"  says  Meredith,  "had  relieved  him  of 
much  of  the  blight  of  self-deception,  and  oddness, 
and  extravagance;  had  given  him  a  heathier  view 
of  our  atmosphere  of  life;  but  he  had  it  not."  It  is 
not  surprising  that  under  such  conditions  a  tragedy 
took  place.  The  System  must  prevail,  although  the 
boy  for  whose  good  it  was  formulated  should  be  sac- 
rificed to  its  exactions.  Had  Sir  Austin  but  pos- 
sessed the  clearer  vision,  clouded  though  it  was,  of 
Lady  Blandish;  or  better  still  had  the  penetrating 
eye  of  the  far-seeing  Bessie  Berry  been  his,  he  might 
have  preserved  his  son  alive.  But  he  would  not  see. 
Ever  declaring  to  himself  that,  so  far  as  his  son  was 
concerned,  all  love  and  all  wisdom  were  his  own,  he 
merited  in  the  hour  of  his  grief  over  his  son's  way- 
wardness and  agony,  exactly  the  same  criticism 
which  had  been  spoken  of  him  many  years  before : 

"If  immeasurable  love  were  perfect  wisdom,  one 
human  being  might  almost  impersonate  Providence 
to  another.  Alas  I  love,  divine  as  it  is,  can  do  no 
more  than  lighten  the  house  it  inhabits — must  take 
its  shape,  sometimes  intensify  its  narro-nmess — can 
spiritualize,  but  not  expel  the  old  life-long  lodgers 
above-stairs  and  below." 

Pity  the  Baronet  deserves,  no  doubt,  but  his  nature 
was  seldom  other  than  cold  and  hard.  In  the  very 
crises  of  his  son's  life,  he  could  steel  himself  to  utter 
an  aphorism;  and  by  the  irony  of  fate  he  character- 
ized himself  most  fully  when  he  wrote,  "A  maker 
of  Proverbs — what  is  he  but  a  narrow  mind,  the 
mouthpiece  of  narrower?"     These  sayings   of  his 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  53 

from  that  first  startling  statement,  "I  expect  that 
woman  will  be  the  last  thing  civilized  by  man,"  to 
that  final  penetrating  observation,  "Which  is  the 
coward  among  us?  He  who  sneers  at  the  failings 
of  Humanity!"  are  never  less  than  brilliant,  and  fre- 
quently strike  at  the  roots  of  the  folly  and  the  mis- 
takes of  mankind.  Recalling  them,  the  reader  is 
again  carried  back  to  "The  Caxtons,"  for  the  father 
of  the  hero  in  that  book  was  engaged  upon  the  com- 
position of  "A  History  of  Human  Error."  The 
absent-minded  scholar  and  the  analytic  nobleman 
thus  both  turned  their  eyes  upon  the  world  about 
them,  and  put  down  the  lessons  they  drew  there- 
from, but  one  looked  from  within  and  was  moved 
by  sympathy  and  pity,  while  the  other  stood  aloof 
and  felt  little  but  contempt  and  scorn. 

At  one  other  point,  certainly,  there  is  a  faint  re- 
semblance to  be  found  between  Meredith  and  Bulwer, 
although  it  might  not  suggest  itself,  if  the  presence 
of  larger  and  more  striking  similarities  did  not  lead 
the  reader  to  find  analogies  where  perhaps  none 
really  exist.  Nevertheless,  the  extreme  deference 
paid  by  Mrs.  Caxton  to  her  husband,  her  ready  ac- 
ceptance of  every  word  of  his  as  the  utterance  of  in- 
carnate wisdom,  remind  one  of  the  earlier  attitude 
of  Lady  Blandish  toward  Sir  Austin.  Fortunately 
for  Mrs.  Caxton,  no  rude  shock  ever  disturbed  her 
admiration.  Her  husband,  inferior  as  he  was  to  the 
nobleman,  was  always  simple  and  sincere,  as  simple 
and  sincere,  in  fact,  as  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 
I^afly  Blandish,  on  the  other  hand,  was  destined  to 
a   harsh    awakening.     The   Autumn    Primrose,    as 


54       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Meredith  called  her  love  for  Sir  Austin,  bloomed  for 
the  Baronet's  pleasure,  and  more  than  once  he 
seemed  on  the  point  of  plucking  it  for  his  wearing, 
but  the  bhghting  frost  of  his  egoism  wrought  in 
time  its  destructive  work.  During  the  first  weeks  of 
her  stay  at  Raynham  Abbey,  Lady  Blandish  was 
awed  into  approval  by  the  stupendous  claims  made 
for  the  System,  nor  would  she  permit  herself  to  doubt, 
either  when  her  heart  went  out  to  the  modest  loveli- 
ness of  Lucy,  or  when  in  pity  she  gazed  upon  Richard 
lying  pale  and  motionless,  with  fever  on  his  cheeks 
and  strange  unseeing  eyes.  But  when  the  nobleman 
hearing  of  Richard's  deceit  and  disobedience,  as  he 
called  it,  endeavored  still  to  be  the  Sage,  still  to 
maintain  his  pose  as  one  who  could  be  surprised  by 
nothing  in  nature,  then  was  the  veil  lifted  somewhat. 
Daily,  thereafter,  she  saw  him  more  and  more  as  he 
was,  and  at  the  end  she  could  write  with  sane  indig- 
nation to  Austin  Wentworth: 

"  Oh !  how  sick  I  am  of  theories,  and  Systems,  and 
the  pretensions  of  men!  There  was  his  son  lying 
all  but  dead,  and  the  man  was  still  unconvinced  of 
the  folly  he  had  been  guilty  of.  I  could  hardly  bear 
the  sight  of  his  composure.  I  shall  hate  the  name 
of  Science  till  the  day  I  die.  Give  me  nothing  but 
commonplace,  unpretending  people!" 

But  the  chief  victim  of  Sir  Austin's  strange  per- 
version, the  object  of  Lady  Blandish's  pity,  and  the 
butt  of  Adrian  Harley's  wit,  Richard  himself,  is  a 
study  in  character,  not  unlike  that  made  by  one  of 
the  founders  of  the  English  novel.  Almost  without 
question,  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  may  be 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  55 

looked  upon  as  a  purified  '*Tom  Jones."  Fielding 
in  his  chief  work  presented  a  hero  as  fully  and  as 
truthfully  as  Rousseau  in  his  "Confessions"  en- 
deavored to  picture  himself.  That  Fielding  suc- 
ceeded, no  reader  denies;  and  attempts  have  been 
made,  now  and  then,  to  gain  renown  in  a  similar 
way.  But  of  the  several  authors  who  seem  to  owe 
a  part  of  their  inspiration  to  Fielding's  frankness  in 
portrayal,  Meredith  comes  nearest  to  a  reproduction 
of  his  spirit.  Meredith  freely  admits  the  natural 
impulses  of  his  hero,  and  shows  whither,  under  cer- 
tain conditions  they  would  inevitably  lead  him. 
That  is,  Meredith  dared  to  do,  what  Thackeray  al- 
most feared  to  undertake.  In  the  preface  of  "  Pen- 
dennis,"  its  writer  remarked  that  since  the  death  of 
Fielding,  no  writer  of  fiction  had  been  permitted  to 
depict  a  man  as  he  really  was.  Instead,  the  hero 
had  to  be  carefully  draped  and  be  given  a  conven- 
tional simper,  since  readers  were  determined  not  to 
hear  what  moved  in  the  real  world;  what  passed  in 
society,  in  the  clubs,  college  mess-rooms;  what  was 
the  life,  the  talk  of  young  men.  Thus  hampered, 
Thackeray  felt  that  he  had  need  to  apologize  for  his 
frankness  in  drawing  the  character  of  Arthur  Fen- 
dennis,  and  that  he  must  ask  the  charitable  favor 
of  his  readers  for  presenting  the  truth.  This  timid- 
ity on  Thackera}-  's  part — one  hardly  likes  to  call  it 
cowardice — this  deference  to  conventional  ideas  not 
yet  wholly  abandoned,  is  a  state  of  mind  which 
Meredith  stigmatizes  by  the  name  of  sentimental- 
ism;  but  Thackeray  possibly  had  been  made  a  trifle 
fearful  by  the  cry  of  disapprobation  which  in  1847 


56   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

had  greeted  the  publication  of  "Jane  Eyre."  Char- 
lotte Bronte  living  quietly  in  the  rectory  at  Haworth 
had  been  too  far  removed  from  the  stiff  propriety 
of  the  cities  to  be  trained  in  the  elegant  accomplish- 
ment of  squeamishness,  and  had  portrayed  the  nat- 
ural passions  as  they  are,  rather  than  as  London 
then  said  that  they  must  be  assumed  to  be.  Never- 
theless, limited  as  her  opportunities  for  observation 
were,  what  Charlotte  Bronte  could  do,  she  did;  on 
the  other  hand  what  Thackeray  felt  he  ought  to  do, 
he  went  nigh  to  shirking;  and  it  is  therefore  not  a 
little  to  the  credit  of  Meredith  that  in  the  very  be- 
ginning of  his  career  as  novelist  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  follow  the  path  of  the  woman  rather  than  of  the 
man. 

Readers  are  not  now  so  daintily  fastidious  as  they 
used  to  be,  and  they  accept  without  adverse  com- 
ment the  baldest  portrayal  of  the  animal  passions; 
but  Charlotte  Bront6  and  George  Meredith  were 
leaders  in  the  renascence  of  the  realistic  presenta- 
tion of  the  natural  instincts,  subjects  which  no  healthy 
mind  now  considers  it  beyond  the  right  of  the  novelist 
to  present.  That  they  were  for  a  time  taboo  to 
writers  of  fiction  was  perhaps  partly  due  to  the  rise 
of  a  false  modesty,  but  probably  more  to  the  fact 
that  their  calm  and  well-balanced  treatment  by 
Fielding  and  Richardson  was  brought  into  disre- 
pute by  the  salacious  suggestions  of  Smollett  and 
the  "knowing"  leers  of  Sterne.  Under  circumstances 
like  these,  certain  chapters  in  "Jane  Eyre"  and  in 
"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  might  have  been 
expected  to  make  readers  uneasy,  a  condition  of 


THE  JOURNEYMAxN  57 

mind  which  was  by  no  means  greatly  soothed  when 
Charles  Reade's  "Griffith  Gaunt"  appeared  in 
1866.  No  wonder  that  shocked  propriety  of  that 
time  exclaimed,  "What  are  we  coming  to!"  nor  can 
we  doubt  that  the  destruction  of  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rah would  have  been  prophesied  for  the  present  day 
and  generation,  had  anyone  foreseen  the  unblush- 
ing immorality  of  many  of  our  plays,  and  the  shame- 
less coarseness  of  not  a  few  of  our  popular  novels. 
For  the  inexcusable  length  to  which  recent  writers 
have  gone,  however,  Charlotte  Bronte  and  George 
Meredith  and  Charles  Reade  are  not  to  blame.  In 
that  cyclic  movement  which  the  world  exhibits  as 
it  makes  its  onward  progress,  this  age  is  repeating  to 
a  certain  extent  the  degraded  artificiality  of  the  Res- 
toration drama  as  compared  with  the  frank  natural- 
ness of  the  Elizabethan  play,  the  evil  mental  condi- 
tions which  permitted  the  reading  of  Smollett  and 
Sterne  as  compared  with  the  healthier  attitude  which 
found  Richardson  and  Fielding  acceptable. 

If  the  readers  of  Meredith's  first  novel  really 
were  over-shocked  by  the  narration  of  Richard's 
adventures  with  the  Enchantress,  they  could  hardly 
deny  that  it  had  brought  them  face  to  face  with  an 
everyday  truth.  Depressing  this  experience  may 
have  been  to  some,  and  doubt  as  to  the  wisdom  of 
the  author's  daring  may  have  affected  others;  but  no 
just  person  could  have  been  blind  to  the  fact  that 
the  colors  had  been  laid  upon  the  canvas  by  no  un- 
certain hand.  Nor  even  in  the  drawing  of  minor 
characters  could  any  tendency  toward  carelessness 
or  indifference  be  found.     The  strokes  might  be  few, 


58       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

but  they  were  sufficiently  bold  and  telling  to  give  the 
figures  life  and  animation.  Ripton  Thompson,  for 
instance,  though  sometimes  regarded  as  an  unsuc- 
cessful portraiture  of  vulgarity,  is  more  than  a  mere 
foil  to  his  high-born  friend.  A  reading  of  his  fight 
with  Richard,  and  of  the  part  which  he  played  in 
the  Bakewell  comedy  will  carry  any  man  back  to 
his  own  boyhood  days.  His  conduct  in  his  father's 
office  was  natural  to  the  last  degree,  and  his  follow- 
ing of  Miss  Random  was.  to  a  youth  of  his  tempera- 
ment, inevitable.  Nor  is  the  subtile  distinction  which 
he  made  as  to  the  propriety  of  his  conduct  in  com- 
parison with  Richard's,  anything  unusual.  The 
specious  argument  by  which  he  explained  away  his 
logical  inconsistency,  is  known  and  repeated  and 
acted  upon  still  by  nearly  every  young  man  whom 
one  meets.  Ripton's  desire  to  watch  over  and  pre- 
serve the  purity  of  his  headstrong  companion,  there- 
fore, is  not  to  be  ridiculed :  rather  one  is  touched  by 
the  pathos  in  his  reply  to  Richard's  scorn  at  his 
words  of  warning,  "It  would  be  different  with  me, 
because  Richard,  I'm  worse  than  you."  Such  guar- 
dianship, such  affectionate  desire  to  protect,  recalls 
William  Dobbin's  faithful  following  of  George 
Osborne  in  "Vanity  Fair."  Even  more, — as  the 
crude,  ungainly  son  of  the  grocer  in  Thames  Street 
dared  to  worship  Amelia  Sedley  at  a  distance,  so 
Ripton  Thompson  found  his  mission  in  striving 
for  Lucy  Feverel's  welfare.  Indeed,  the  very  words 
in  which  Meredith  describes  Ripton's  awakening 
might  have  been  -^Titten  by  Thackeray  himself — 
even  to  the  little  moral  with  which  they  conclude: 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  59 

"  He  spoke  differently ;  he  looked  differently.  He 
had  the  Old  Dog's  eyes  in  his  head.  They  watched 
the  door  she  had  passed  through;  they  listened  for 
her,  as  dogs'  eyes  do.  When  she  came  in,  bonneted 
for  a  walk,  his  agitation  was  dog-like.  When  she 
hung  on  her  lover  timidly  and  went  forth,  he  fol- 
lowed without  an  idea  of  envy,  or  anything  save  the 
secret  raptures  the  sight  of  her  gave  him,  which  are 
the  Old  Dog's  own.  For  beneficent  Nature  re- 
quites him.  His  sensations  cannot  be  heroic,  but 
they  have  a  fullness  and  a  wagging  delight  as  good 
in  their  way.  And  this  capacity  for  humble,  unaspir- 
ing worship  has  its  peculiar  guerdon.  When  Rip- 
ton  comes  to  think  of  JNIiss  Random  now,  what  will 
he  think  of  himself?  Let  no  one  despise  the  Old 
Dog.     Through  him  doth  Beauty  vindicate  her  sex." 

Far  more  important  than  Ripton  Thompson  is  the 
garrulous,  large  -  hearted,  simple  -  minded  Bessie 
Berry.  In  that  mad  world  where  the  inmates  of 
Raynham  Abbey  played  their  many  parts,  she  is 
almost  the  only  well-balanced  human  being.  The 
mention  of  her  name,  however,  and  the  recollection 
of  her  doings  immediately  suggest  a  number  of 
other  characters  in  English  fiction.  In  portraying 
her,  Meredith  used  a  method  characteristic  of  Dick- 
ens, that  of  summing  up  a  person  in  one  grand,  all- 
containing  trait.  As  Tommy  Traddles  in  "David 
Copperfield"  possesses  a  sort  of  "  hearth-b roomy 
kind  of  expression,"  as  Mrs.  Fezziwig  in  "  A  Christ- 
mas Carol"  is  "one  vast  substantial  smile."  as  Ben- 
son, Sir  Austin's  butler,  is  "the  saurian  eye," — al- 
though  that   designation   also   brings   to   mind  De 


GO        I'lIE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Quincey's  dubbing  the  coacliinan  in  "The  Glory  of 
Motion"  "a  crocodile" — so  is  Mrs.  Berry  made  to 
live  and  breathe  before  us  as  "the  bunch  of  black 
satin."  Coarse  she  is  at  times,  as  coarse  as  Sairey 
Gamp,  as  racy  in  her  speech  as  Dame  Quickly,  and 
as  slyly  inslnuative,  but  withal  as  sympathetic,  as  the 
nurse  in  "Romeo  and  Juliet."  She  is  marked,  too, 
by  a  pronounced  interest  in  cooking  which  places  her 
besides  Mrs.  Todgers  in  "Martin  Chuzzlewit," 
while  her  common-sense  ideas  upon  morality,  and 
her  shrewd  observations  upon  life  in  general  make 
her  an  own  sister  to  Mrs.  Poyser  in  "Adam  Bede." 
We  trust  her,  yes,  we  love  her,  the  moment  we 
meet  her  at  the  door  of  her  lodging  house  in  Ken- 
sington. Nor  are  we  betrayed.  She  is  the  Dca 
ex  machina  of  Richard 's  life.  Married  she  has 
been,  and  at  the  hands  of  her  husband  she  has  suffered 
much;  but  despite  her  sad  experience,  her  ideas  upon 
men  and  matrimony  are  safe  and  sane.  One  sight 
of  Mrs.  Mount  enables  her  to  analyze  and  label  the 
woman  a  Bella  Donna,  a  use  of  terms  which,  as 
Meredith  remarks,  would  have  startled  that  lady  by 
its  accuracy.  Incisively  penetrative  in  her  under- 
standing of  Sir  Austin,  she  adecjuately  sums  up  his 
character  when  she  says  to  Lady  Blandish,  "A  man 
that's  like  a  woman,  he's  the  puzzle  o'  life! "  Greater 
wisdom  than  is  usually  admitted,  underlies  her  bridal 
gift  to  Richard's  young  wife;  and  a  full  knowledge 
of  the  world  causes  her  to  make  no  delay  in  hasten- 
ing to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  when  she  hears  that  Lucy 
lies  unprotected  at  the  mercy  of  Brayder  and  Mount- 
falcon.     Mrs.  Berry's  keenness  of  vision  also  shows 


TllK  JOURNEYMAN  61 

her  that  hoyond  a  douht  all  would  be  well  if  she  coiilci 
hut  hrin<;  Kichard  aud  Lucy  to<vcther.  lu  her  at- 
tempt to  assist  in  the  consunmiation  of  her  hope  she 
makes  her  famous  speech  on  the  separation  of  hus- 
band and  wife: 

"'I'hree  months  dwellin'  apart!  That's  not  mat- 
rimonv,  it's  divorcin'l  what  can  it  be  to  her  but 
widowhood  ?  Widowhood  with  no  cap  to  show 
for  itl  And  what  can  it  be  to  you,  my  dear  ?  Think! 
you  have  been  a  bachelor  three  months!  and  a  bach- 
elor man,  he  ain't  a  widow  woman.  .  .  .  We  all 
know  what  checked  prespiration  is.  Lau<i;h  away, 
I  don't  mind  ye,  I  say  af};ain,  we  all  do  know  what 
checked  presj>iration  is.  It  fly  to  the  lun<^s,  it  "ives 
ye  mortal  inllammation  and  it  carries  ye  o(f.  Then 
I  say  checked  matrimony  is  as  bad.  It  fly  to  the 
heart,  and  it  carri{\s  ofV  the  virtue  that's  in  ye,  and 
you  mit^ht  as  well  be  dead!" 

After  that  how  can  one  say,  as  has  been  said  more 
than  once,  that  Mrs.  Berry  simply  wandered  into 
"The  Ordeal  of  Kichard  Feverel"  from  the  show- 
box  of  Gadshill!  Meredith  did  far  more  than  imi- 
tate the  creator  of  "David  C()j)j)erfield."  Tie  bor- 
rowed a  part  of  that  writer's  pano[)ly,  perhaps,  but 
in  the  tilt  he  beat  Dickens  on  his  own  ground. 

And  what  is  to  be  said  of  Clare  and  T>ucy  ?  They 
also  are  not  unsug'^estive  of  Dickens;  yet  the  quiet 
grief  with  which  (-lare  obeyed  her  mother's  com- 
mands, and  the  tragic  struggle  which  lAwy  made 
against  her  fate,  can  never  become  a  mere  matter  of 
laughter  or  contempt,  a  misfortune  which  has  over- 
taken many  a  passage  in  Dickt-ns,  once  looked  upon 


G2       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEKEDmi 

as  the  perfection  of  pathetic  writing.  Critics  say 
far  too  much,  when  they  assert  tiiat  the  point  of 
bathos  is  reached  in  tlie  description  of  tlie  death 
of  httle  Nell,  for  after  more  than  half  a  century  that 
chapter  in  "The  Old  Curiosity  Shop"  still  rin<i;s  true. 
Nevertheless,  there  is  a  dignity,  a  reserve  in  Mere- 
dith's treatment  of  Richard's  watch  beside  his  dead 
cousin,  which  protects  the  younojer  writer  from  seri- 
ous adverse  criticism.  A  similar  self-restraint  ap- 
pears also  in  his  description  of  Lucy's  death,  for  she, 
too,  must  die,  not  because  she  is  misunderstood,  but 
because  she  must  be  broken  on  the  wheel  of  Sir 
Austin's  magnificent  system.  Hers  was  a  stronger 
character  than  Clare's;  too  strong,  indeed,  to  meet 
death  in  the  same  way.  The  deepest  pathos  of  her 
life,  therefore,  is  not  in  the  agony  of  her  last  hours, 
but  rather  in  that  meeting  with  her  husband  when, 
rising  to  her  noble  forgiveness  of  his  unfaithfulness, 
she  is  rent  and  torn  in  the  very  moment  of  triinnph, 
by  his  blind  and  wilful  persistence  in  a  mistaken  con- 
ception of  honor,  Tn  that  hour,  the  souls  of  Richard 
and  Lucy  lie  bare  before  us;  we  are  at  the  very  springs 
of  spiritual  life;  and  we  learn  anew  that  the  still  small 
voice  sometimes  speaks  to  the  heart  of  man  as 
plainly  from  the  words  of  the  novelist  as  from  the 
pages  of  Holy  Writ. 

"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  is  a  tragedy — 
a  tragedy,  indeed,  in  the  Shakspearean  manner.  This 
means  not  simply  that  the  reader  is  led  into  the 
presence  of  death,  but  that  the  heart-racking  catas- 
trophe of  the  end  is  foreshadowed  at  the  very  begin- 
ning.    The  traijic  note  sounds  with  no  uncertain 


11  IK  JOURNEYMAN  63 

tone  in  the  earliest  pages,  and  from  then  on  II  is  ])er- 
sistcntly  repc^nied  with  increiising  intensity  nntil  it 
becomes  the  knell  tolling  the  few  years  of  Lucy's 
troubled  life.  Not  for  a  moment  in  reading  the  book, 
not  even  in  its  humorous  scenes,  is  one  allowed  to 
deceive  oneself  with  the  h()|)e  that  in  some  miraculous 
way  the  outcome  may  be  hapj)y.  Instead,  there 
seizes  upon  the  reader  that  kind  of  frenzy  which  liiys 
its  gras[)  uj)()n  liim  as  he  watches  the  unrelenting 
advancement  of  the  [)lot  against  Cordelia,  or  the 
ravening  j)rogress  of  the  feud  which  deflowered  the 
houses  of  (-a,j)ulet  and  Montague,  ('onvinced  for 
the  time  that  the  woes  of  Richard  and  Lucy  are  real, 
one  feels  that  one  must  turn  back  the  wheels  of  fate, 
that  the  inevitable  must  not  be. 

Powerful  as  Meredith  must  have  seen  that  his  first 
novel  was,  however,  he  did  not  again  permit  him- 
.self  to  make  an  e(iually  extensive  incursion  into  the 
same  field  of  writing.  "The  Tale  of  Chloe"  is 
tragic,  it  is  true,  but  nearly  perfect  as  it  is,  still  no 
more  than  a  short  story;  "Rhoda  Fleming"  with  its 
lesson  that  the  consequences  of  sin  are  eternal,  is 
pretty  serious  reading,  but  it  is  not  tragedy,  not  at 
least  in  the  technical  sense  of  that  term;  the  death 
neither  of  Roy  Ri(;hmond  nor  of  Nevil  Beauchamp 
takes  the  novel  in  which  each  of  those  men  appears, 
out  of  the  realm  of  comedy;  and  although  "  Vittoria," 
"'I'he  Tragic  Comedians"  and  "One  of  Our  Con- 
((uerors"  may  seem  to  hover  upon  the  borders  of 
lands  presided  over  by  the  tragic  rather  than  the 
comic  muse,  it  is  clear  that  in  comparison  with 
"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel,"  all  the  succeed- 


64       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

ing  novels  form  a  group  of  which  the  homogeneity  is 
much  disturbed  by  any  attempt  to  class  the  earlier 
work  with  them. 

INIeredith's  second  novel,  therefore,  "Evan  Har- 
rington," stands  in  almost  as  great  contrast  with  the 
book  immediately  preceding  it  as  that  with  the 
writings  of  its  author's  apprenticeship.  The  tragic 
element  is  practically  eliminated,  for  although 
Juliana  Bonner's  death  brings  about  the  union  of 
the  man  whom  she  loves  with  the  woman  of  his 
choice,  her  story  awakens  no  more  than  a  quickly 
passing  impulse  of  pity.  The  woes  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Susan  ^Yheedle  are  but  faintly  outlined,  and  are 
included  probably  for  no  other  reason  than  to  show 
the  kindliness  of  Evan's  heart;  and  finally  the  unhap- 
py lot  of  the  beautiful  and  attractive  Caroline  Strike 
is  perhaps  purposely  but  little  more  than  mentioned, 
that  the  story  of  her  temptation  and  escape  may  not 
seriously  interfere  with  the  gradual  unfolding  of 
Evan's  rise  to  true  manhood,  or  with  the  mirth-pro- 
voking treatment  of  the  complications  surrounding 
the  Countess  de  Saldar.  The  book,  indeed,  is  per- 
vaded by  humor  of  every  sort,  the  extravagant, 
the  grotesque,  the  refined,  the  delicate,  the  subtle, 
and  the  funny,  until  it  would  seem  that  Meredith 
is  on  the  point  of  breaking  through  the  bounds  of 
what  in  the  drama  would  be  called  legitimate  com- 
edy, and  of  permitting  himself  to  revel  for  a  time  in 
the  fields  of  hilarious  farce.  But  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  is  ever  mindful  of  the  demands  of  true  pro- 
portion; and  consequently,  never  degenerating  into 
the  harlequin,  he  can  force  home,  despite  his  fun, 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  65 

the  serious  lesson  of  the  hollow  foolishness  which  lies 
in  attempting  to  appear  what  one  is  not. 

Different  as  Meredith's  first  two  novels  are  in 
most  respects,  however,  the  second  is  like  the  first 
to  the  extent  of  presenting  three  or  four  characters 
somewhat  suggestive  of  those  found  in  the  writings 
of  other  authors.  John  Raikes,  for  instance,  it  has 
been  said  by  some  critic,  might  easily  have  been  cre- 
ated by  Thackeray;  but  such  a  statement  shows  a 
strange  forgetful  ness  of  the  words  and  ways  of  Dick 
Swiveller  in  "The  Old  Curiosity  Shop;"  and  cer- 
tainly the  solicitous  care  and  the  deferential  respect 
which  Evan's  old  school-friend  has  for  his  much 
worn  hat  vividly  recalls  the  outward  appearance 
though  not  the  swindling  nature  of  Mr.  Tigg,  the 
shabby-genteel  gentleman  in  "  Martin  Chuzzlewit." 
The  Cogglesby  brothers,  too,  unlike  the  Cheeryble 
twins  as  they  are  in  many  respects,  must  still  sug- 
gest Nicholas  Nickleby's  benefactors,  in  their  kind- 
ness of  heart,  their  delight  in  dry  jokes,  and  their 
sly  plans  for  helping  the  deserving  and  circumvent- 
ing the  insincere.  The  chapters  in  which  these  two 
men  carry  out  a  conspiracy  to  reduce  the  pride  of 
old  Harrington's  daughters— a  conspiracy  only  too 
successful  since  Andrew  found  himself  caught  in  his 
own  trap — is  like  Dickens  almost  at  his  best  in  the 
humorous;  and  the  first  chapter,  also,  in  which  the 
inn-keeper,  the  butcher,  and  the  confectioner  discuss 
the  death  of  the  tailor  is  reminiscent  of  Dickens,  but 
of  Dickens,  rarified,  sublimated,  and  refined.  While 
the  Lymport  shopkeepers  talk,  the  reader  learns 
that  the  Great  Mel,  as  the  sartorial   INIelchisedec 


m       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Harrington  was  called,  had  a  soul  much  above  but- 
tons and  would  gladly  have  moved  in  aristocratic 
circles.  Realizing  that  he  could  best  attain  this  end 
by  not  making  too  many  pretensions,  he  assumed  a 
modesty  which  really  irked  his  heart,  a  humility 
which  was  ever  on  the  watch  for  opportunity,  a  kind 
of  Uriah  Heepism,  so  to  speak,  raised  to  the  n'th 
power.  Nevertheless  there  was  nothing  cringing  in 
IVir.  Melchisedec  Harrington,  Tailor  of  183,  Main 
Street,  Lymport-on-the-Sea,  for  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  Melchisedec  had  a  Presence;  and  ac- 
cording to  Meredith: 

"A  Presence  would  seem  to  be  a  thing  that  directs 
the  most  affable  appeal  to  our  human  weakness.  .  .  . 
Beau  Brummel,  for  instance,  had  a  Presence.  Many 
it  is  true,  take  a  Presence  to  mean  no  more  than  a 
shirt-frill.  .  .  .  But  that  is  to  look  upon  language 
too  narrowly." 

The  wife  of  the  Great  Mel,  has  a  far  fainter  Dick- 
ens flavor  than  he.  The  way  in  which  she  bullied 
Dandy  is  not  without  a  suggestion  of  Quilp's  treat- 
ment of  Tom  Scott,  nor  is  her  servant's  devotion  to 
her  beyond  a  comparison  with  Tom's  affection  and 
admiration  for  the  master  by  whom  he  was  habitually 
beaten  and  abused.  But  Henrietta  Maria  Harring- 
ton, a  woman  endowed  with  a  Port  as  her  husband 
with  a  Presence,  does  not  permit  herself  to  be  dis- 
missed with  the  mere  statement  that  she  faintly 
recalls  a  character  in  "The  Old  Curiosity  Shop." 
She  was  a  strong-minded,  common-sense  woman, 
perhaps  best  summed  up  in  Dandy's  epithet  of 
"iron,"  a  word  which  he  frequently  muttered  when 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  67 

he  found  himself  reduced  to  subjection  by  the  mere 
glance  of  her  eye.  Like  Mrs.  Berry  in  "  The  Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel,"  she  is,  with  the  possible  ex- 
ception of  Lady  Jocelyn,  the  one  sane  person  in  the 
story  of  Evan  Harrington  from  the  time  she  stands 
unawed  before  the  patronizing  Lady  Roseley  until 
she  comes  to  think  it  fully  in  keeping  with  a  Port  to 
look  after  the  management  of  Tom  Cogglesby's 
house.  She  might  have  been  a  little  more  gentle 
with  Evan  the  night  after  his  return  from  his  father's 
grave,  a  greater  display  of  affection  at  that  time 
would  have  been  no  weakness  on  her  part;  but  true 
to  her  nature  she  "gave  her  cheek  for  his  kiss,  for 
she  never  performed  the  operation,  but  kept  her 
mouth,  as  she  remarked,  for  food  and  speech,  and 
not  for  slobbering  mummeries." 

Mrs.  Harrington  knew  her  children,  even  as  with 
penetrating  insight  she  knew  all  men  and  women 
whom  she  met.  In  her  daughters  she  expected  to 
find  neither  sense  of  mind  nor  greatness  of  soul, 
for  they  were  true  descendants  of  their  father;  but 
in  Evan  her  hope  was  centred,  although  she  was 
far  from  being  blind  to  the  knowledge  that  he  could 
not  win  his  battles  unaided.  Determining,  there- 
fore, that  her  son  should  not  be  ruined  by  what  she 
termed  a  "parcel  of  fools,"  she  appeared  more  rigid 
and  less  kind  than  perhaps  her  heart  prompted. 
Such  reserve,  however,  might  be  expected  to  go 
with  the  commanding  strength  of  character  which 
showed  itself  in  the  calm  scorn  irresistibly  quelling 
Tom  Ogglesby's  irascibility,  and  in  the  self-respect- 
inji  motherhood  reachin.0;  out  to  save  her  son  from 


6S       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

hypocrisy  and  deceit.  There  was  more  than  dignity, 
there  was  grandeur  in  her  bearing  and  in  her  soul 
when  she  appeared  at  the  picnic  in  the  grounds  of 
Beckley  Court.  Evan,  she  felt,  must  be  saved  at 
any  cost  to  his  pride. 

"There  was  in  her  bosom  a  terrible  determination 
to  cast  a  devil  out  of  the  one  she  best  loved.  For 
this  purpose,  heedless  of  .all  pain  to  be  given,  or  of 
impropriety,  she  had  come  to  speak  publicly,  and 
disgrace  and  humiliate,  that  she  might  save  him 
from  the  devils  that  had  ruined  his  father.  *My 
lady,'  said  the  terrible  woman,  thanking  her  in  reply 
to  an  invitation  that  she  might  be  seated,  *I  have 
come  for  my  son.  I  hear  that  he  has  been  playing 
the  lord  in  your  house,  my  lady.  I  humbly  thank 
your  ladyship  for  your  kindness  to  him,  but  he  is 
nothing  more  than  a  tailor's  son,  and  is  boimd  to  a 
tailor  himself  that  his  father  may  be  called  an  honest 
man.     I  am  come  to  take  him  away. ' " 

If  the  reader  of  these  words  has  any  adequate 
conception  of  the  circumstances  under  which  they 
were  uttered,  if,  indeed,  he  has  even  a  remote  under- 
standing of  the  woman  who  said  them,  he  has  con- 
vincingly borne  in  upon  him  the  fundamental  truth 
in  Meredith's  philosophy  of  life.  So,  indeed,  ]\Irs. 
Mel  is  more  than  a  mere  character  in  a  novel,  she 
is  more  than  what  critics  call  a  type,  she  is  rather 
an  embodiment  of  that  perfect  sincerity  before  which, 
in  the  long  run,  artificiality  and  sham  must  always 
go  down. 

In  strong  contrast  with  their  mother  stand  the 
three  daughters,  Caroline  Strike,  Harriet  Cogglesby, 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  69 

and  Louisa,  Countess  de  Saldar.  Inheriting  their 
father's  social  ambition  to  rise  in  society,  they 
emancipated  themselves  as  far  as  possible  from 
what  they  called  the  Demigorgon  of  Tailordom  and 
strove  with  courage  and  pertinacity  to  make  their 
footing  firm  in  aristocratic  circles.  Much  as  the 
reader  may  laugh  at  them,  however,  he  feels  at  times 
that  Caroline  Strike  is  not  undeserving  of  pity.  The 
beautiful  wife  of  a  brutal  husband,  she  is  saved 
from  disgrace  through  the  one  sincere  trait  in  her 
character,  her  love  for  her  brother.  Faintly  sketched 
as  she  is,  she  plays  her  part  with  a  stately  sweet- 
ness which  makes  the  story  of  her  life  pathetic  in 
spite  of  all  her  failings.  Her  next  younger  sister, 
Harriet,  the  wife  of  the  wealthy  brewer,  Andrew  Cog- 
glesby,  is  even  more  lightly  drawn.  Unendowed 
with  the  beauty  of  her  elder  sister,  and  lacking  in 
the  strategical  power  of  the  Countess,  she  was  con- 
tent to  remain  in  the  background,  to  sacrifice  herself 
for  the  good  of  the  cause,  and  to  furnish  funds  for  the 
campaign  in  which  the  daughters  Harrington  hoped 
to  vindicate  their  right  to  forget  their  humble  birth. 
In  the  siege  thus  laid  to  the  citadel  of  society, 
the  Countess  de  Saldar  was  the  general.  Attractive, 
vivacious,  far-seeing,  and  cautious,  she  knew  where 
to  marshal  her  forces,  how  to  place  her  artillery,  and 
when  to  fly  the  flag  of  truce.  Her  very  success 
wins  our  approval ;  and  the  reader  feels  almost  guilty 
of  treason  as  he  breaks  into  irresistible  laughter, 
when  the  father,  whom  she  had  denied,  was  pitilessly 
served  up  to  her  at  the  dinner  in  Beckley  Court,  or 
when  the  awful  catastrophe  of  her  mother's  unex- 


70   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

pected  appearance  at  Lady  Jocelyn's  picnic,  sub- 
verted her  plans  and  spiked  her  guns.  The  Countess 
de  Saldar  has  been  called  "the  most  consummate 
liar  in  literature,"  but  this,  as  ^Meredith  said  in  an- 
other connection,  is  to  look  upon  language  too  nar- 
rowly. Her  per\'ersion  of  the  truth  was  too  artistic  to 
be  regarded  as  mere  lying;  rather  let  it  be  called  a 
poetic  idealization  of  unattractive  fact.  But  if 
the  generalship  of  the  Countess  awakens  admiration 
in  the  hours  of  siege  and  of  attack,  it  wins  even 
greater  applause,  when  in  unbending  dignity  she  with- 
drew from  a  well-fought,  if  unsuccessful  battlefield. 
It  was  not  in  her  nature  to  admit  defeat.  Repulsed 
from  one  position,  she  marched  away,  with  colors 
flying,  to  recruit  her  forces  at  another  vantage  ground. 
Her  letter  from  Rome  showed  her  occupying  a  new 
eminence,  ambitious,  unconquered,  and  courageous 
still. 

The  Countess  has  only  one  peer  in  English  litera- 
ture; Becky  Sharp  in  "Vanity  Fair."  As  Thack- 
eray's interesting  heroine,  forgetting  that  her  mother 
was  an  opera  girl,  used  to  say  that  her  maternal 
ancestors,  the  Entrechats,  were  a  noble  family  of 
Gascony,  so  the  Countess  sunk  the  identity  of  the 
Great  IMel  in  Abraham  Harrington  of  Torquay;  as 
Becky  took  advantage  of  a  certain  lack  of  gallantry 
in  Jos  Sedley  to  make  him  her  lover,  so  Louisa  de 
Saldar  boldly  drew  Harry  Jocelyn  from  a  group  of 
scoffing  critics,  and  taught  him  to  fetch  and  carry  at 
her  will.  Again  as  the  governess  in  Queen's  Crawley 
determined  to  make  friends  with  everyone  around 
her,  who  could  at  all  interfere  with  her  comfort,  so 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  71 

the  tailor's  daughter  at  Beckley  Court  undertook  to 
make  capture  of  all  who  could  in  anyway  assist  or 
prevent  her  making  her  position  sure.  As  Miss 
Sharp  overreached  herself  in  marrying  Rawdon 
Crawley,  so  the  Countess  now  and  then,  taking  ad- 
vantage of  what  seemed  to  offer  firm  footing,  found 
herself  upon  treacherous  ground.  And  thus  the 
comparison  of  character  and  plot  might  be  con- 
tinued even  to  those  last  scenes  in  which  Mrs. 
Rawdon  Crawley,  born  Sharp,  betook  herself  to 
deeds  of  charity,  went  to  church  regularly  and  placed 
her  name  upon  subscription  lists  for  the  Destitute 
Orangeman,  the  Neglected  Washer-woman,  and  the 
Distressed  Muffin-man,  while  the  Countess  de 
Saldar  found  a  haven  and  a  refuge  in  a  religion 
which,  according  to  her  own  words,  gathers  all  in 
its  arms,  not  even  excepting  tailors. 

Despite  the  likeness  between  the  two  women,  the 
Countess  is  far  less  repellent  than  Becky.  Either  of 
them,  it  is  true,  might  unsheath  her  claws  and  mark 
one  with  a  cat-like  scratch;  but  their  ways  were 
different.  Becky  was  careless  whom  she  hurt,  if  the 
injured  person  could  not  retaliate;  the  Countess 
with  a  certain  lady-like  magnanimity  exhibited  her 
weapons  only  to  keep  some  envious  woman  in  well- 
disciplined  subjection.  Still  further  Becky  was  an 
egoist  who  sacrificed  everything  and  everybody  to 
her  own  ambition,  while  the  Countess,  gathering  up 
her  two  sisters,  her  brother,  and  the  memory  of  her 
dead  father,  endeavored  to  carry  them  all  with  her 
to  a  secure  and  lasting  niche  in  high  society.  In  the 
attainment  of  their  ambition  both  of  the  women 


72       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

failed,  yet  while  the  reader  feels  that  Thackeray 
meted  out  to  Becky  her  proper  deserts,  he  wonders  if 
Meredith  did  not  suffer  an  occasional  qualm  for  not 
permitting  the  Countess  to  remain  master  of  the  situ- 
ation at  Beckley  Court.  Such  a  triumph  would  have 
been  hardly  more  than  poetic  justice  due  that  lady's 
adroit  and  consummate  genius. 

As  studies  in  character,  Mrs.  Mell  and  her  titled 
daughter  are  of  such  importance  as  to  make  it  a 
matter  of  some  surprise  that  neither  Evan  Harring- 
ton himself  nor  the  two  women  who  regarded  him 
with  romantic  affection  approach  anywhere  near 
being  unique.  Nevertheless,  the  reason  for  the  ex- 
istence of  the  novel  rests  first  of  all  in  its  presentation 
of  the  struggle  which  a  young  man  undergoes,  when 
for  good  and  almost  sufficient  reasons  he  would  like 
to  appear  other  than  he  is;  and  also  in  its  setting 
the  not  unimportant  problem  of  what  a  young 
woman  shall  do,  when  her  heart  has  been  given  to 
the  keeping  of  a  man  socially  her  inferior.  Evan's 
nature  even  in  its  undeveloped  state  partook  suffi- 
ciently of  his  mother's  sturdy  sincerity  to  earn  for 
him  from  the  angry  Countess  the  frequent  accusa- 
tion of  being  but  a  Dawley — an  epithet  by  which  the 
lady  meant  that  her  brother  was  willing  to  remain  on 
a  level  with  the  commonplace  family  from  which  the 
Great  Mel  had  presumably  raised  his  wife  when  he 
made  her  Mrs.  Harrington.  Partly  moved  by  his 
sister's  prodding,  but  influenced  still  more  by  the 
fact  that  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  daughter  of 
Sir  Franks  Jocelyn,  Evan  wavered  between  the  de- 
sire to  call  himself  a  gentleman,  and  the  wish  to  be 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  73 

loyal  to  truth  and  write  himself  a  tailor.  Nor  does 
Meredith  permit  his  readers  to  feel  that  Evan  was 
called  upon  to  make  any  insignificant  choice.  It  in- 
volved a  question  of  moral  strength;  on  the  young 
man's  decision  his  future  rise  or  fall  is  so  plainly  made 
to  depend,  that  one  breathes  a  sigh  of  relief  when 
one  learns  that  Evan  has  determined  to  make  his 
way  to  Mr.  Goren's  unattractive  London  shop.  If 
by  so  doing  he  in  any  way  ceased  to  be  a  gentleman, 
he  at  least  showed  himself  a  man. 

The  struggle  through  which  Rose  Jocelyn  passed 
in  becoming  reconciled  to  her  lover's  calling  was 
hardly  less  significant  than  Evan's  own.  But  her 
native  good  sense  and  strength  of  character  did  not 
fail  her  in  the  crucial  moment;  despite  an  occa- 
sional feeling  of  repugnance  to  becoming  a  tailor's 
wife,  she  showed  herself  worthy  of  the  man  who 
loved  her.  Unfortunately,  circumstances  for  a  time 
forced  Evan  to  appear  a  dastard  even  to  her,  and 
their  engagement,  as  a  result,  seemed  irrevocably 
broken.  For  artistic  reasons  the  bond  had  to  be 
reknit,  but  it  is  disappointing  to  find  that  Mere- 
dith's hand  suddenly  lost  its  cunning,  and  that  the 
first  four  thoroughly  satisfying  acts  of  the  comedy, 
as  its  author  calls  it,  are  followed  by  a  group  of  scenes 
which  it  is  scarcely  too  harsh  to  speak  of  as  cheap 
and  commonplace.  Meredith's  solution  of  his 
concluding  problem  is  as  little  satisfactory  as  the 
closing  chapters  of  "The  Vicar  of  Wakefield"  where 
Goldsmith,  suddenly  seeming  to  realize  that  he  had 
before  him  a  Gordian  knot  of  his  own  weaving, 
abruptly  and   unexpectedly  struck  it  through,  be- 


74       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

cause  he  lacked  the  patience  and,  possibly,  the  in- 
genuity necessary  to  its  untying. 

In  the  same  way  Juliana  Bonner's  death  and  the 
influences  which  it  set  in  motion  seem  hardly  more 
than  a  sorry  makeshift  to  unite  the  parted  lovers. 
Just  why  Meredith  introduced  the  young  woman  in 
the  first  place  is  hardly  clear.  Evidently  he  did  not 
care  for  her  and  apologized  more  than  once  for  her 
existence.  It  is  true  that  she  is  faintly  suggestive 
of  Richard  Feverel's  cousin  Clare,  probably  for  no 
other  reason  than  because  she  was  an  invalid,  but 
on  the  whole  she  was  a  despicable  little  creature  and 
the  way  in  which  she  gloated  over  Evan's  bodily 
strength  and  physical  attractiveness  makes  her  at 
times  positively  repulsive.  Meredith's  chivalry  now 
and  then  forced  him  to  present  her  in  such  a  light 
as  to  awaken  a  glimmer  of  pity;  but  in  general  it 
must  be  admitted  that  a  reader  feels  little  better 
than  shocked  to  have  the  likeness  of  Juliana  Bonner 
hang  in  the  same  gallery  with  portraits  of  Lucy 
Desborough,  Clara  Middletown,  and  Diana  War- 
wick. Yet,  the  ending,  despite  its  weakness,  does 
not  lessen  to  any  great  extent  the  satisfaction  and 
delight,  with  which  one  recalls  those  early  scenes 
made  memorable  by  the  presence  of  the  tall  and 
stately  Henrietta  ]Maria  Harrington,  the  versatile 
and  vivacious  Countess  de  Saldar,  the  eccentric  Tom 
Cogglesby,  and  the  beautiful  Caroline  Strike. 

"Evan  Harrington"  first  appeared  in  the  popular 
magazine  called  Once  A  Week,  and  ran  from  Febru- 
ary 11  to  October  13,  1860.  It  was  reprinted  the 
following  year;  and  the  story  proved  enough  more 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  75 

successful  than  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel" 
to  create  a  demand  for  a  second  edition  in  1866. 
Meanwhile,  of  course,  Meredith  did  not  cease  writing; 
but  he  did  turn  aside  for  a  time  from  prose  to  poetry, 
and  in  1862  published  a  volume  entilted  "Modern 
Love  and  Poems  of  the  English  Roadside."  Of 
the  twenty-three  pieces  of  varying  length  in  that 
book  but  four  are  now  included  in  sets  of  Meredith's 
presumably  complete  works — "Juggling  Jerry"  and 
"The  Old  Chartist,"  both  in  method  reminding  one 
of  Browning,  "  Marian,"  a  lyric  recalling  Tennyson's 
early  studies  in  portraiture,  and,  most  important  of 
all,  the  cycle  of  fifty  sixteen-line  stanzas  collectively 
given  the  title  which  stood  as  the  leading  name  of 
the  whole  volume.  Upon  its  appearance  the  book 
was  so  severely  handled  by  The  Spectator  as  to  pro- 
voke a  sharp  letter  of  protest  from  Swinburne,  who 
did  not  hesitate  to  say  that  no  man  then  living  had 
ever  turned  out  a  more  perfect  piece  of  writing  than 
the  forty-seventh  poem  of  the  series  entitled  "Mod- 
ern Love."  This  rather  sweeping  statement,  it 
should  be  remembered,  was  made  at  a  time  when 
Tennyson  was  felt  by  most  readers  to  be  the  greatest 
writer  since  Milton;  and  Browning,  by  at  least  a  few, 
to  be  the  greatest  since  Shakespeare. 

That  Swinburne's  challenge  was  made  not  without 
reason,  is  best  proved,  perhaps,  by  letting  the  poem 
mentioned  speak  for  itself. 

"We  saw  the  swallows  gathering  in  the  sky, 
And  in  the  osier-isle  we  heard  them  noise. 
We  had  not  to  look  back  on  summer  joys 
Or  forward  to  a  summer  oi'  bright  dye; 


76       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

But  in  the  largeness  of  the  evening  earth 

Our  spirits  grew  as  we  went  side  by  side. 

The  hour  became  her  husband  and  my  bride. 

Love  that  had  robbed  us  so,  thus  blessed  our  dearth! 

The  pilgrims  of  the  year  waxed  very  loud 

In  multitudinous  chatterings,  as  the  flood 

Full  browTi  came  from  the  West,  and  like  pale  blood 

Expanded  to  the  upper  crimson  cloud. 

Love  that  had  robbed  us  of  immortal  things 

This  little  moment  mercifully  gave, 

Where  I  have  seen  across  the  twilight  wave 

The  swan  sail  with  her  young  beneath  her  wings. 

In  accordance  with  just  what  theory  of  selection 
the  remaining  score  of  poems  in  the  vohime  was 
afterwards  suppressed  is  not  at  all  clear.  Some, 
it  is  true,  show  but  little  improvement  over  the 
"Poems"  of  1851,  and  for  that  reason  were  perhaps 
rightly  rejected;  but  on  the  other  hand  two  or 
three  are  not  unworthy  of  a  place  beside  the  best 
lyrics  produced  during  the  latter  half  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  "Margaret's  Bridal  Eve,"  for  in- 
stance, led  Swinburne  to  say  in  his  "Essays  and 
Studies"  that  it  stands  not  very  far  below  Rossetti's 
"Sister  Helen,"  a  poem  which  the  same  critic  ranked 
as  being  "out  of  all  sight  or  thought  of  expression 
the  greatest  ballad  in  modern  English."  In  spite 
of  such  praise  Meredith  ruthlessly  omitted  the 
piece  from  all  later  collections  of  his  poetry,  and 
with  as  little  hesitation  pruned  away  the  nearly 
flawless  verses  called  "The  Meeting."  It  is  inter- 
esting to  learn  that  this  particular  poem  received 
the  distinction  of  being  praised  by  Thackeray  at  a 
time  when  he  was  almost  a  dictator  in  the  world  of 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  77 

English  letters.  The  great  novelist  and  editor  said 
to  Peacock  who  showed  him  the  lines  in  manuscript, 
"They  have  the  true  ring  about  them.  Were  it  not 
my  fate  to  make  enemies  of  so  many  of  my  contribu- 
tors by  not  always  being  able  exactly  to  meet  their 
views,  I  should  ask  you  to  let  your  friend  fill  many 
pages  of  the  Cornhill."  These  were  no  insignifi- 
cant words,  but,  flattering  as  they  were,  they  seem, 
when  one  takes  the  subject  of  "The  Meeting"  into 
consideration,  to  exhibit  Thackeray  in  the  same 
unfortunate  light  as  does  the  introduction  to  "Pen- 
dennis" — that  is,  suffering  from  an  obsession  of 
timidity.  At  all  events  the  poem  appeared  for  the 
first  time  not  in  Cornhill,  but  in  Once  A  Week,  where 
in  compensation  for  its  rejection  by  Thackeray,  it 
was  illustrated  by  Sir  John  Millais. 

THE   MEETING 

The  old  coach-road  through  a  common  of  furze 

With  knolls  of  pine  ran  white; 
Berries  of  autumn,  with  thistles  and  burrs 

And  spider-threads,  droop'd  in  the  light. 

The  light  in  a  thin  blue  veil  peered  sick; 

The  sheep  grazed  close  and  still; 
The  smoke  of  a  farm  by  a  yellow  rick 

Curled  lazily  under  a  hill. 

No  fly  shook  the  round  of  the  silver  net; 

No  insect  the  swift  bird  chased; 
Only  two  travellers  moved  and  met 

Across  that  lazy  waste. 

One  was  a  girl  with  a  bal)e  that  throve, 

Her  ruin  and  her  bliss; 
One  was  a  youth  with  a  lawless  love 

Who  clasped  it  the  more  for  this. 


7S   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

The  girl  for  her  babe  hummed  prayerful  speech, 

The  youth  for  his  love  did  pray; 
Each  cast  a  wistful  look  on  each; 

And  either  went  their  way. 

From  these  quotations  at  least  two  conclusions  may 
be  safely  drawn,  that  Meredith  was  no  mere  poetaster, 
and  that  his  work  in  verse  showed  a  considerable 
o-rowlh  in  1862  bevond  what  it  had  been  ten  years 
before.  Still,  although  poems  by  jNIeredith  appeared 
now  and  then  in  the  magazines,  he  did  not  see  fit 
to  collect  them  into  a  volume  until  twenty  years 
had  gone  by.  On  the  other  hand,  beginning  in  18G4, 
he  published  three  novels  in  three  successive  years, 
"Sandra  Belloni,"  "Rhoda  Fleming,"  and  "Vit- 
toria."  Of  these  the  third  is  connected  with  the  first 
in  much  the  same  way  as  Thackeray's  "Virginians" 
is  related  to  "Henry  Esmond."  The  heroine, 
Emilia  x\lessandra  Belloni,  however,  is  the  same  in 
both  stories ;  and  the  steady  growth  of  her  character 
is  continuously  kept  before  the  reader  instead  of  its 
being  presented  at  two  contrasting  periods  of  her 
life,  as  was  Thackeray's  method  with  Beatrix  Es- 
mond. Nevertheless,  INIeredith's  two  novels  pre- 
sent several  points  of  difference.  "Sandra  Belloni" 
was  originally  called  "Emilia  in  England,"  a  title 
which  it  kept  until  1887,  and  which  indeed  it  should 
have  retained,  since  it  presents  the  experience  of  an 
Italian  exile's  daughter.  "Vittoria,"  or  as  it  might 
better  have  been  called  "Emilia  in  Italy,"  relates 
the  events  in  the  life  of  the  same  young  woman 
after  her  arrival  in  her  father's  native  land,  and  the 
identification  of  herself  with  the  unsuccessful   at- 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  79 

tempt  which  that  country  made  in  1849  to  throw  off 
the  Austrian  yoke.  In  the  two  novels  deaUng  with 
the  Hfe  of  Emiha  Belloni,  therefore,  peaceful  Eng- 
land is  set  off  against  troubled  Italy,  society  small- 
talk  against  political  intrigue,  enthusiasm  for  art 
against  devotion  to  country,  youthful  sentiment 
against  womanly  affection,  ridiculous  scenes  pro- 
vocative of  laughter  against  grim  incidents  inspir- 
ing horror,  and  pictures  almost  wholly  lacking  in 
tragic  elements  against  those  which  are  strongly 
colored  by  sorrow  and  bloodshed. 

But  if  "Sandra  Belloni"  stands  in  noticeably 
strong  contrast  to  its  sequel,  its  similarity  to  "Evan 
Harrington"  is  hardly  less  remarkable.  In  fact, 
had  Meredith's  third  novel  been  for  any  reason 
published  anonymously,  its  authorship  would  have 
been  immediately  suspected.  The  three  daughters 
and  the  son  of  the  Lymport  tailor  simply  reappear 
as  the  children  of  the  City  of  London  merchant,  at 
least  so  far  as  there  is  concern  with  their  social  am- 
bition or  with  the  ascendency  which  the  three  sisters 
in  either  novel  had  over  their  only  brother.  Nor 
is  the  truth  of  this  comparison  weakened  by  the 
daughters  of  Samuel  Pole  being  less  strongly  dif- 
ferentiated than  those  of  Melchisedec  Harrington, 
or  by  the  fact  that  Evan  Harrington  in  proving 
himself  a  man  rose,  while  Wilfred,  never  becoming 
wholly  sincere,  steadily  declined.  That  many  of 
the  minor  characters  in  both  novels  should  be  much 
alike  is  of  course  little  surprising,  for  Lady  Gosstre, 
Lady  Chillingworth,  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Bayruffle,  and 
even  Edward  Buxley  and  possibly  Tracy  Running- 


so       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

book  must  have  moved  in  the  same  social  circle 
with  I.ady  Jocelyn,  Mrs.  Barrington,  and  Drum- 
mond  Forth.  In  addition  to  this  likeness  in  char- 
acter drawing,  there  is  also  a  similarity  of  incident 
too  striking  to  be  overlooked.  The  picnic  on  Bes- 
worth  lawn  is  essentially  a  repetition  of  that  which 
occurred  at  Beckley  Court,  even  to  the  placing  of  the 
superior  guests  upon  an  eminence  apart  from  the 
common  crowd.  The  supper  also  in  which  the  deli- 
cate feelings  of  the  sisters  Pole  were  scourged  by 
the  vulgar  Mrs.  Chump  inevitably  suggests  the  dinner 
at  which  the  Countess  de  Saldar  and  Caroline  Strike 
writhed  beneath  the  lash  of  hearing  their  father's 
memory  bandied  about  as  a  thing  for  sport  and 
laughter. 

Now  and  then,  too,  in  "Sandra  Belloni"  Mere- 
dith seems  to  hark  even  further  back  than  to  "Evan 
Harrington,"  since  Braintop's  admiration  for  Sandra 
is  not  wholly  unsuggestive  of  Ripton  Thompson's 
worship  of  Lucy;  and  Mrs.  Chump  occasionally  re- 
calls Mrs.  Berry.  But  in  neither  case  is  there  any 
strong  appeal  made  to  our  sympathy.  Braintop,  in 
consequence,  never  appears  other  than  foolish  and 
silly,  nor  INIrs.  Chump  other  than  common  and  of- 
fensive. The  latter,  however,  is  of  interest  from 
another  point  of  view,  for  she  is  a  study  in  caricature 
after  Dickens's  broadest  style.  Early  pictured  as 
"a  shock  of  blue  satin  to  the  eye"  and  afterwards 
characterized  as  "a  simmering  pot  of  emerald 
broth,"  she  lives  before  us  by  virtue  of  Dickens's 
method  of  concentrating  upon  a  striking  trait.  Her 
speech  as  represented  by  Meredith  is  hardly  realistic 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  81 

or  convincing  in  itself;  but  it  suddenly  takes  on 
versimilitude  when  the  exasperated  Adela  Pole 
bursts  out  with  her  characterization  of  the  woman's 
talk.  "Her  brogue!  Do  you  remember  it?  It  is 
not  simply  Irish.  It's  Irish  steeped  in  brine.  It's 
pickled  Irish!"  Of  course  Dickens  would  not  have 
written  in  just  that  way,  but  his  custom  of  portray- 
ing a  person  by  making  three  or  four  ridiculous 
strokes  of  the  pen  has  been  pretty  closely  imitated. 
In  drawing  Mrs.  Chump,  Meredith,  it  must  be  con- 
ceded, availed  himself  of  the  privilege  of  being  far- 
cical ;  but  in  so  doing  he  barely  escaped  being  repul- 
sive. Nevertheless,  vulgar,  coarse,  and  repellent  as 
Mrs.  Chump  is,  there  is  sufficient  reason  for  her 
existence  since  she  is  a  righteous  retribution— or  to 
use  the  diction  of  criticism,  an  artistic  nemesis, 
visited  upon  the  Pole  sisters  for  their  assumption  of 
a  pose  which  shows  them  to  be  only  less  vulgar, 
coarse,  and  repellent  than  she  through  their  pos- 
session of  a  greater  subtil ty  in  self-expression. 

Arabella,  Cornelia,  and  Adela  Pole  stand  as  the 
embodiment  of  that  attitude  of  mind  which,  know- 
ing itself  to  be  wholly  commonplace,  still  undertakes 
to  deceive  not  only  the  world  but  itself  also  into  the 
belief  that  it  is  possessed  of  innate  grace  and  charm. 
This  mental  condition  and  the  conduct  to  which  it 
gives  rise,  Meredith  looked  upon  as  a  phase  of  what 
he  terms  "sentinientalism."  As  expressed  in  the 
three  sisters,  it  shows  that  they  felt  themselves  to  be 
in  exclusive  possession  of  the  Nice  Feelings  and  un- 
surpassed in  comprehension  of  the  Fine  Shades. 
This  confidence  on  their  part  led  to  a  proceeding 


82       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

which  they  called  "Mounting."  That  is,  conscious 
of  what  they  regarded  as  dross  in  those  surrounding 
them  and  consequently  to  a  certain  extent  contempt- 
uous, they  none  the  less  were  not  unwilling  to  make 
use  of  others  if  bv  so  doing  thev  might  advance 
themselves.  "To  be  brief,"  wrote  Meredith,  "they 
were  very  ambitious  damsels  aiming  at  they  knew 
not  exactly  what,  save  that  it  was  something  so  wide 
that  it  had  not  a  name,  and  so  high  in  air  that  no  one 
could  see  it."  For  this  reason  they  endured  Mr. 
Pericles  because  of  his  wealth,  they  associated  with 
Lady  Gosstre  because  of  her  title  and  assured  social 
position,  and  they  decided  to  patronize  Emilia  hoping 
by  means  of  her  wonderful  voice  to  become  known 
as  a  sort  of  triple  modern  Maecenas,  a  kind  of 
earthly  agent  of  the  Muses. 

Nor  did  those  more  closely  related  to  them  escape 
paying  tribute  to  their  ambition.  Their  father's 
success  as  merchant  was  the  more  gratifying,  since 
it  rendered  possible  their  escape  from  a  city  circle; 
but  they  had  to  admit  that  his  unaspirated  speech 
made  them  shudder.  They  thought  themselves  sin- 
cere when  they  professed  to  love  their  father,  but 
they  could  not  bring  themselves  to  look  upon  his 
grammar  as  paternal.  Their  brother,  too,  an  in- 
valided Cornet  recently  returned  from  India,  they 
loved  tenderly  and  admired  when  necessary.  But 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  valor  is  not  an  in- 
tellectual quality,  they  soon  exhausted  their  sensa- 
tions concerning  his  deeds  of  arms,  and  fancied  that 
he  had  served  their  purpose.  All  of  which  goes  to 
show  that  they  were  certainly  lacking  in  sincerity. 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  83 

not  to  say  in  truth  and  honor.  Meredith  therefore 
does  not  hesitate  to  subject  the  Fine  Shades  and  the 
Nice  Feehngs  to  frequent  scourgings  which  would 
awaken  pity  if  the  punishment  meted  out  were  not 
so  richly  deserved. 

Wilfred  Pole,  the  brother,  was  also  a  sentimental- 
ist, and  differed  from  his  sisters  only  in  presenting 
another  aspect  of  the  same  insincerity.  Imagining 
himself  to  be  in  love  with  Emilia,  because  he  was 
desirous  of  sharing  in  the  renown  which  her  voice 
must  eventually  bring  her,  he  was  not  perfectly  sure 
that  her  birth  and  personality  would  permit  of  her 
being  introduced  to  the  members  of  the  social  cir- 
cle in  which  he  moved.  Again,  partly  to  please 
his  father,  but  more  to  gain  the  satisfaction  which 
would  redound  from  a  union  with  a  woman  of  title, 
he  proposed  marriage  to  Lady  Charlotte  Chilling- 
worth.  When  she  accepted  him  as  her  lover,  he 
found  himself  in  a  dilemma.  Equally  pledged  to 
two  women,  he  could  not  decide  to  which  he  should 
remain  faithful.  Seeking  release  from  each,  he 
learned  that  neither  would  give  him  up,  Emilia  be- 
cause she  could  not  believe  him  insincere,  Lady 
Charlotte  because  she  was  determined  to  keep  him 
at  all  hazards.  Thus  Wilfred  cut  a  ridiculous  figure; 
and  the  reader  feels  artistic  satisfaction,  when  at 
the  close  of  "Sandra  Belloni,"  the  sentimental  youth 
was  unexpectedly  jilted  by  both  the  singer  and  the 
lady. 

But  his  woful  experience  taught  him  no  lasting 
lesson.  Reappearing  in  the  novel  called  "Vittoria,'' 
he    surrounded    himself    in    Italy    with    conditions 


84       THE  xXOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

strikingly  similar  to  those  which  had  brought  about 
his  humiliation  in  England.  After  becoming  en- 
gaged to  the  Austrian  Countess  Anna  von  Lenken- 
stein  he  again  met  Emilia  whom  three  years  of  study 
had  made  a  cantatrice  of  no  ordinary  ability.  No 
more  truly  in  love  with  her  than  before,  he  felt  his 
earlier  ambition  revive,  and  attempted  to  repeat 
his  trick  of  paying  addresses  to  one  woman  while 
still  bound  in  honor  to  another.  I>ess  uniformly  suc- 
cessful in  his  second  experiment  than  in  his  first,  he 
soon  found  the  tables  completely  turned  upon  him. 
He  received  but  cold  treatment  from  Emilia  and  a 
colder  dismissal  from  the  Countess.  Truly,  senti- 
mentalism  led  its  possessor  through  thorny  paths; 
and  Wilfred  Pole  must  have  felt  it  a  hard  school 
in  which  he  learned  the  lesson,  that  he  who  will 
not  when  he  may,  may  not  when  he  will.  Surely 
if  the  victim  of  his  own  insincerity  awakened  the 
laughter  of  the  gods  in  his  early  disappointment, 
Olympus  must  have  rung  with  their  shouts  when 
they  gazed  upon  the  boy-like  chagrin  with  which 
he  received  his  second  breeching. 

In  strong  contrast  with  the  Pole  sisters  and  their 
brother  stands  Emilia  Alessandra  Belloni,  Mere- 
dith's first  minute  and  elaborate  presentation  of 
admirable  womanhood.  Endowed  by  her  creator 
with  all  the  graces,  all  the  virtues,  and  all  the  powers, 
youth  and  beauty,  simplicity  and  honesty,  inspira- 
tion and  genius,  Sandra  was  a  favorite  with  INIere- 
dith  at  the  beginning  and,  according  to  those  who 
claim  to  know,  was  never  in  the  author's  mind  re- 
placed as  a  study  of  ideal  womanliness  by  any  char- 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  85 

acter  of  the  later  novels.  Confident  of  her  charm, 
yet  never  in  any  sense  egotistical,  she  offended  only 
the  hypercritical  when  she  offered  to  sing,  assum- 
ing without  question  the  desire  of  her  audience 
to  listen.  Simple  as  Nature  itself,  she  failed  to  com- 
prehend the  subtle  reasoning  which  caused  Cor- 
nelia Pole  to  conclude  that  the  woods,  the  night,  and 
the  moon  gave  inspiration  not  elsewhere  found.  As 
sure  as  the  Lady  in  "Comus"  that  virtue  is  its  own 
protection,  she  saw  no  cause  for  concealing  her  early 
acquaintance  with  Captain  Gambier,  nor  for  hesi- 
tating in  later  years  to  visit  the  offices  of  the  disgust- 
ing Pericles. 

Practical,  too,  she  was  calmly  unconscious  of  the 
humor  in  her  account  of  her  careful  preservation 
of  the  potatoes  which  her  angry  father  used  as 
ammunition  against  her  first  lover.  Unashamed 
of  those  whom  she  knew,  she  impulsively  intro- 
duced Purcell  Barrett,  the  poor  organist,  nor  knew 
that  she  had  erred,  even  when  the  sisters  gave  him 
the  three  shades  of  distance,  called  respectively 
from  the  coldness  of  their  recognition,  Pole,  Polar, 
and  North  Pole.  Simple  and  sincere  herself,  she 
expected  to  find  others  no  more  complex  or  divided 
in  mind  than  she,  and  in  consequence,  not  for  a 
moment  did  she  suspect  Wilfred  as  implying  less 
than  he  said,  when  she  sat  with  him  beside  the  white- 
twisting  fall  of  Wilming  Weir.  Unsuspicious  of  his 
restless  shallowness,  she  saw  no  reason  to  bind  him 
by  promise.  He  loved  her,  she  thought,  as  she 
loved  him,  and  two  souls  so  loving  had  no  need  of 
spoken    oath.     Thoroughly    convinced,    therefore, 


8G       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

of  the  righteousness  of  her  behef  in  her  lover,  she 
could  see  nothing  strange  or  unwarrantable  in  her 
going  to  Samuel  Pole  for  the  purpose  of  asking  his 
consent  to  her  marriage  with  his  son.  No  reader  can 
be  much  surprised  at  the  effect  which  her  uncon- 
ventional methods  had  upon  the  London  merchant; 
but  the  ludicrous  conduct  of  the  man  when  the  fear 
comes  upon  him  that  Emilia  is  insane,  makes  neither 
her  nor  her  pleadings  in  any  degree  ridiculous  to  us. 
Despite  her  simple,  trusting  nature,  however, 
Emilia  did  not  lack  in  depth  or  in  strength  of  char- 
acter. True,  she  was  struck  dowm  at  the  revelation 
of  Wilfred  Pole's  perfidy,  when  Lady  Chillingworth, 
intending  to  work  ultimate  kindness  by  means  of 
present  cruelty  arranged  that  the  girl  should  hear 
her  lover's  disavowal  of  any  affection  for  her;  but 
upon  her  recovery,  delayed  though  it  was  by  her 
other  misfortunes,  she  adjusted  herself  to  circum- 
stances in  a  way  which  showed  that  her  almost 
girlish  conduct  was  the  mere  surface  play  of  a  truly 
estimable  womanliness.  Rendered  somewhat  less 
impulsive  by  her  unhappy  experiences,  she  grew 
more  analytical  of  herself  and  of  others,  and  finally 
came  to  see  that  she  had  the  right  to  ask  release  from 
a  promise  which  kept  her  away  from  Italy,  and  upon 
receiving  a  refusal,  to  break  that  promise  herself, 
in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  duty  and  honor. 
This  marked  a  decided  development  in  her  char- 
acter; still,  the  reader  is  startled  by  the  consummate 
deed  of  retaliation  which  closed  her  life  in  England. 
Poetic  justice,  however,  was  no  more  than  fulfilled 
in  Lady  Chillingworth's  being  forced  to  hear  \Yilfred 


The  journeyman  s? 

Pole  make  as  thorough  a  repudiation  of  her  as  he 
had  formerly  made  of  Emilia.  Still  it  must  not  be 
overlooked  that  her  ladyship  rose  to  the  occasion. 
With  unconquerable  aplomb  she  moved  forward  to 
say,  "  I  like  a  hand  that  can  deal  a  good  stroke.  I 
conceived  you  to  be  a  mere  little  romantic  person  and 
correct  my  mistake."  The  words  are  wise  and  fitted 
the  situation.  Moreover,  the  thought  which  they 
expressed  may  stand  for  that  which  must  exist  in 
many  a  reader's  mind.  Had  Emilia  left  England 
without  performing  that  act  of  chastisement,  she 
would  indeed  have  appeared  but  a  mere  little  ro- 
mantic person.  The  stroke  as  delivered,  however, 
gave  balance  to  her  character  and  at  the  same  time 
formed  a  fitting  climax  to  the  book  which  tells  the 
story  of  her  early  life.  Without  it,  Meredith's  third 
novel  would  have  been  far  weaker  than  his  second; 
with  it  "Sandra  Belloni"  is  distinctly  stronger  than 
"Evan  Harrington"  and  certainly  not  unworthy  of 
the  hand  which  wrote  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel." 

The  opening  chapter  of  "Vittoria"  presented 
Emilia  in  new  surroundings.  She,  however,  was  un- 
changed save  that  to  the  attributes  which  had  made 
her  admirable  were  now  added  a  breadth  of  under- 
standing and  a  perfection  of  vision  which  placed 
her  character  in  full  and  stable  equipoise.  In 
"Sandra  Belloni"  she  was  always  beautiful  and 
attractive,  in  "Vittoria"  she  was  stately  and  com- 
manding. At  the  close  of  her  three-year  study  in 
the  Milan  Conservatory  of  Music,  not  only  her 
voice  but  her  womanhood   as  well  rose  from  the 


88       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

chrysalis  stage  of  youth,  and  hovered  brilliantly 
above  the  hearts  and  souls  of  Young  Italy.  Patriot- 
ism and  heroism  led  her  in  spite  of  counter-edict  and 
command,  to  sing  the  song  which  was  to  precipitate 
the  uprising  against  Austrian  oppression.  Had 
the  minds  of  those  who  listened,  possessed  but  a  part 
of  the  wisdom  which  was  hers,  the  unification  of 
Italy  would  have  been  immediately  secured;  but 
her  hearers  convinced  that  the  conclusions  of 
man's  laborious  intellectual  study  are  superior  to 
those  of  woman's  quick  insight,  made  the  half- 
hearted response  which  ended  in  nothing  but  a 
reign  of  terror  and  useless  bloodshed.  Nor  did  fate 
permit  Emilia  to  escape  the  havoc  which  the  blind- 
ness and  timidity  of  men  permitted  to  ensue.  Never- 
theless, the  picture  which  Meredith  gives  of  her 
at  the  very  close  of  "Vittoria"  shows  that  strength 
of  mind,  greatness  of  heart,  and  nobility  of  soul 
were  hers. 

"Merthvr  delivered  the  burden  of  death.  Her 
soul  had  crossed  the  darkness  of  the  river  of  death 
in  that  quiet  agony  preceding  the  revelation  of  her 
Maker's  will,  and  she  drew  her  dead  husband  to  her 
bosom,  and  kissed  him  on  the  eyes  and  forehead, 
not  as  one  who  had  quite  gone  away  from  her  but 
as  one  who  lay  upon  another  shore  whither  she  would 
come.  The  manful  friend,  ever  by  her  side,  saved 
her  by  his  absolute  trust  in  her  fortitude  to  bear  the 
burden  of  the  great  sorrow  undeceived,  and  to  walk 
with  it  to  its  last  resting  place  on  earth  unobstructed. 
Clear  knowledge  of  her,  the  issue  of  reverent  love, 
enabled   him   to   read   her  unequalled   strength  of 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  89 

nature,  and  to  rely  on  her  fidelity  to  her  highest 
mortal  duty  in  a  conflict  with  extreme  despair." 

On  the  whole,  "Vittoria,"  from  some  points  of 
view  at  least,  is  unique  among  Meredith's  works. 
It  is  that  author's  only  historical  novel,  the  only  one 
of  which  the  scenes  are  laid  entirely  out  of  England 
and  of  which  the  characters  are  almost  exclusively 
foreign  to  Meredith's  native  land.  It  seems  not  to 
have  been,  nor  to  be,  very  popular;  and  the  statement 
that  it  was  the  fruit  of  a  visit  to  Italy  during  the  Aus- 
tro-Italian  war  has  been  met  more  than  once  by 
the  semi-sarcastic  remark  that  readers  would  have 
been  better  pleased  had  Meredith  stayed  at  home. 
This  patronizing  bit  of  criticism,  was  due  of  course, 
not  so  much  to  fact  as  to  the  brilliancy  of  the 
writer  who  first  uttered  it,  since  the  novel  appeared 
in  The  Fortnightly  Review  from  January  1  to  Decem- 
ber 1,  1866,  at  the  very  time  when,  acting  as  Italian 
correspondent  for  The  London  Morning  Post,  Mere- 
dith was  assumed  to  be  collecting  material  for  a 
book  already  written.  However  that  may  be,  the 
failure  of  "Vittoria"  to  win  ready  acceptance  from 
its  author's  admirers  may  be  due  to  its  being  more 
emphatically  a  novel  of  incident  than  any  of  his 
other  books;  for  readers  of  Meredith  are  devoted  to 
him,  not  because  he  can  tell  a  story,  but  because  he 
gives  careful  and  minute  studies  of  character. 

If  Meredith  intended  to  write  a  novel  which  should 
strongly  attract  lovers  of  exciting  action,  he  seems 
to  have  failed  in  his  purpose,  not  perhaps  be- 
cause the  book  itself  is  in  any  way  undeserving 
of  success,   but   probably  because    readers  desiring 


90       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

that  kind  of  book  had  come  to  the  conckision 
that  the  author  of  "Evan  Harrington"  or  of  "San- 
dra Belloni"  could  hardly  write  to  please  them. 
If  such  really  was  the  case,  they  stood  in  their  own 
light,  for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  an  onrush 
in  the  several  chapters  presenting  the  events  im- 
mediately preceding  the  abortive  uprising,  and  in 
those  relating  the  flight  of  Emilia,  which  must  carry 
readers  to  the  end.  Moreover,  there  is  a  greater 
breadth  and  freedom  of  drawing  than  in  any  of 
Meredith's  earlier  books;  and,  indeed,  it  might  be 
held  with  some  show  of  truth  that  he  never  again 
permitted  himself  equal  liberty.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
the  chief  defect,  apparent  to  every  reader,  is  that 
the  great  number  of  characters — there  are  one  hun- 
dred and  nine — crowd  the  pages  to  such  an  extent 
that  by  the  hopeless  confusion  of  Austrians,  Italians, 
and  English;  men,  women,  and  children;  patriots, 
traitors,  and  enemies;  poets,  composers,  and  sing- 
ers; nobles,  commons,  and  servants,  one  is  both 
blinded  and  deafened,  and  is  sometimes  compelled 
to  pause  and  wonder  what  it  is  all  about. 

As  the  last  novel  written  during  Meredith's  period 
of  journeyman  work,  "Vittoria,"  whatever  its  de- 
fects, has  at  least  the  interest  of  showing  that  its 
writer  was  practically  emancipated  from  everything 
which  looks  like  the  dominating  influence  of  other 
authors.  Now  and  then  ^Meredith  appears  to  have 
borrowed  from  his  own  earlier  work,  much  as  in 
"Sandra  BeUoni"  he  drew  from  "Evan  Harrington" 
and  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel;"  but  so  far 
as  other  novelists  are  concerned,  the  power  which 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  'Ji 

they  had  once  had  over  him  was  spent,  and  he 
was  rearly  to  depend  wholly  upon  himself.  True 
as  this  is  of  "Vittoria,"  "Rhoda  Fleming,"  the 
novel  which  in  date  of  publication  separated  "Sandra 
Belloni "  from  its  sequel,  gave  no  promise  of  any  such 
self-deliverance.  Instead,  the  indebtedness  of  Mere- 
dith to  Richardson,  Dickens,  and  George  Eliot, — or 
rather  the  similarity  of  certain  passages  of  the  novel 
to  parts  of  "Clarissa  Harlowe,"  "David  Copper- 
field,"  and  "Adam  Bede" — came  nearer  to  laying 
its  writer  open  to  the  charge  of  plagiarism  than 
anything  else  which  he  had  done.  Meredith's 
acquaintance  with  the  works  of  Samuel  Richardson 
had  led  him  at  the  close  of  "  Evan  Harrington,"  to 
make  mention  of  Sir  Charles  Grandison  by  name; 
and  in  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel,"  at  least 
in  the  unpruned  exuberance  of  its  earliest  form,  to 
include  a  humorous,  scintillating  chapter  about  a 
certain  Mrs.  Caroline  Grandison,  said  to  be  a  legiti- 
mate descendant  of  the  famous  gentleman  whose 
family  name  she  bore. 

"In  her  sweet  youth,"  it  seems, "the  lady  fell  vio- 
lently in  love  with  the  great  Sir  Charles  and  married 
him  in  fancy.  The  time  coming  when  maiden  fancy 
must  give  way  to  woman  fact,  she  compromised  her 
reverent  passion  for  the  hero  by  declaring  that  she 
would  never  change  the  name  he  had  honored  her 
with,  and  must,  if  she  espoused  any  mortal,  give  her 
hand  to  a  Grandison.  Accordingly,  two  cousins 
were  proposed  to  her;  but  the  moral  reputation  of 
these  Grandisons  was  so  dreadful,  and  such  a  dis- 
grace to  the  noble  name  they  bore,  that  she  rejected 


92       THE  XO\'ELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

them  with  horror.  Woman's  mission,  however, 
being  her  perpetual  precept,  she  felt  at  the  age  of 
twenty-three  bound  to  put  it  in  practice  and,  as  she 
was  handsome  and  most  handsomely  endowed,  a 
quite  unobjectionable  gentleman  was  discovered 
who,  for  the  honor  of  assisting  her  in  her  mission, 
agreed  to  disembody  himself  in  her  great  name,  and 
be  lost  in  the  blaze  of  Sir  Charles.  With  his  con- 
currence she  rapidly  produced  eight  daughters.  A 
son  was  denied  her.  Thus  was  the  second  genera- 
tion of  Grandisons  denied  a  son.  Her  husband, 
the  quite  unobjectionable  gentleman,  lost  heart  after 
the  arrival  of  the  eighth,  and  surrendered  his  mind 
to  more  frivolous  pursuits.  She  also  appeared  to 
lose  heart;  it  was  her  saintly  dream  to  have  a  Charles. 
So  assured  she  was  that  he  was  coming  at  last  that 
she  prepared  male  baby-linen  with  her  own  hands 
for  the  disappointing  eighth.  ^Mien  in  that  mo- 
ment of  creative  suspense,  Dr.  Bairam's  soft  voice 
with  sacred  melancholy,  pronounced  *A  daughter' 
madam!'  Mrs.  Caroline  Grandison  covered  her 
face,  and  wept.  She  afterwards  did  penance  for 
her  want  of  resignation  and  relapsed  upon  religion 
and  little  dogs." 

These  allusions  to  Richardson's  hero  might  pos- 
sibly be  explained  as  the  result  of  chance;  but  it  is 
far  more  than  a  mere  chance,  it  is  a  strongly 
influenced  state  of  mind  to  which  certain  parts  of 
"Rhoda  Fleming"  are  due.  The  pursuit  of  Clarissa 
Harlowe  by  Richard  Lovelace  has  little  in  common 
perhaps  w^th  the  pursuit  of  Dahlia  Fleming  by 
Edward    Blancove;    but  the  sincere  repentance  of 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  93 

the  eighteenth  century  libertine  and  his  earnest  wish 
that  his  evil  work  had  been  left  undone  are  too  nearly 
like  the  deep  and  manly  contrition  of  the  London 
banker's  son  and  his  desire  to  make  amends  so  far 
as  in  him  lay  to  leave  any  doubt  in  a  reader's  mind 
of  Meredith's  marked  indebtedness  to  Richardson. 
The  influence  of  Dickens  and  George  Eliot, 
can  hardly  be  so  positively  declared,  although  con- 
siderable evidence  of  its  probability  is  adducible. 
The  plot  of  "Rhoda  Fleming,"  centring  as  it  does 
about  the  deception  practised  by  a  nobleman's  son 
upon  a  young  and  pretty  Kentish  girl  visiting  her 
uncle  in  London,  is  not  in  any  essential  unusual:  the 
situation  is  one  which  has  been  treated  over  and 
over  again,  ever  since  the  time  when  story-telling 
began.  To  hold,  then,  that  Dahlia's  elopement 
with  Edward  is  traceable  either  to  Emily's  flight 
with  Steerforth,  or  to  Hetty's  misplaced  confidence  in 
Arthur  Donnithorn  would  be  setting  up  a  claim  too 
easily  refuted;  but  to  allege  that  Robert's  search  for 
Dahlia  owes  something  to  Peggotty's  journey  to  find 
Emily,  and  to  Adam's  quest  for  Hetty  is  to  make 
an  assertion  less  easily  disproved.  The  despairing 
hope  with  which  the  man  in  each  case  sets  out,  the 
inquiries  which  are  so  depressingly  fruitless  for  a 
time,  the  endeavors  which  are  wholly  discouraging 
for  many  days,  and  the  final  discovery  of  the  crushed 
and  broken-hearted  victim  are  too  much  alike  for 
the  reader  not  to  feel,  even  if  he  cannot  prove,  that 
George  Eliot  drew  somewhat  from  Dickens,  and 
that  Meredith  was  not  wholly  uninfluenced  by  both 
of  his  older  and  popular  contemporaries. 


U4       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

In  certain  minor  matters,  also,  other  similarities 
are  noticeable:  Rhoda's  dogged  persistence  in  re- 
fusing to  believe  that  Dahlia  could  have  gone 
wrong  must  recall  Adam's  long  unshaken  con- 
fidence in  Hetty;  Mrs.  Lovell's  remarks  upon  Ed- 
ward's waywardness  when  she  finds  that  Dahlia  is 
but  a  farmer's  daughter,  suggests  Rose  Dartle's  cruel 
indifference  when  she  learns  that  Emily  is  a  Yar- 
mouth sailor's  child;  and  Robert's  refusal  to  allow 
Edward  even  a  moment  with  Dahlia  brings  to  mind 
the  essential  particulars  of  the  scene  between  Adam 
and  Arthur  in  the  wood.  Again,  the  effect  which 
Edward's  letter  has  upon  Dahlia  is  not  unlike  that 
which  Arthur's  has  upon  Hetty;  Dahlia's  consent  to 
marry  Sedgett — a  deed  by  which  her  family  hopes 
to  restore  her  to  respectability — suggests  Hetty's 
first  contemplations  of  her  possible  marriage  with 
Adam,  after  she  has  been  cast  off  by  Arthur;  and 
finally,  so  far  as  matters  of  plot  are  concerned, 
Adam's  marriage  to  Dinah  Morris  at  least  remotely 
calls  to  mind  the  union  of  Robert  and  Rhoda. 

In  character-drawing,  too,  certain  similarities  may 
be  pointed  out.  Dahlia  and  Rhoda  as  sisters  make 
one  think  of  Nancy  and  Priscilla  Lammeter  in  "Silas 
Marner,"  while  the  group  gathered  in  the  Pilot  Inn 
is  not  unsuggestive  of  a  far  more  successful  piece  of 
drawing,  the  company  which  sat  around  the  fire- 
place in  the  kitchen  of  "The  Rainbow."  Certainly 
Meredith  suffers  here  in  comparison  with  George 
Eliot,  The  woman  painted  a  scene  which  is  natural, 
convincing  and  life-like;  but  the  man's  picture  is 
without  verisimilitude,  for  it  is  not  too  much  to  say 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  95 

that  his  characters  are  stiff  and  unnatural.  William 
Fleming's  housekeeper,  Mrs.  Sumfit,  and  his  super- 
annuated overseer,  Master  Gammon,  are  beyond  all 
doubt  in  Dickens's  style;  and  his  brother-in-law, 
Anthony  Hackbut,  has  been  felt  by  many  critics  to 
belong  in  the  same  catagory.  Nor  has  Nicodemus 
Sedgett  escaped  being  placed  there  also,  though  it 
seems  nearer  the  truth  to  say,  that  he  reflects  the 
manner  of  Charles  Reade.  Indeed,  however  strong 
a  case  may  be  made  in  the  attempt  to  show  that 
"Rhoda  Fleming"  was  produced  under  the  direct 
influence  of  works  by  Richardson,  Dickens,  and 
George  Eliot,  it  may  be  remarked  in  passing  that 
the  whole  novel  has  a  flavor  distinctly  like  that 
found  in  "Griffith  Gaunt"  and  in  "Foul  Play." 
These  works,  however,  did  not  appear  until  after  the 
publication  of  "  Rhoda  Fleming,"  a  fact  which  shows 
that  if  it  is  worth  while  to  assert  the  existence  of  a 
connection  between  Meredith  and  Reade,  the  latter, 
rather  than  the  former,  must  have  been  the  disciple. 
But  this  treatment  of  "Rhoda  Fleming"  as  if  it 
were  little  more  than  a  mere  patch-work  of  pieces, 
artfully  chosen  and  skilfully  fitted  together,  is  hardly 
just  either  to  the  book  or  to  the  author.  That  it  is 
inferior  to  the  other  works  of  Meredith's  journey- 
man period,  few  readers  will  deny  despite  Steven- 
son's readiness  to  give  it  almost  unstinted  praise. 
Certainly,  excuses  are  frequently  made  for  an  ap- 
parent carelessness  of  workmanship  not  easily  par- 
donable in  an  author  who  expects  to  be  taken  seri- 
ously. The  chief  of  these,  namely,  that  Meredith, 
much  to  his  own  regret    was  forced   to  place  his 


96       THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

book  upon  the  market  before  he  could  give  it  the 
careful  revision  which  was  his  custom,  appears 
with  a  regularity  almost  computable;  yet  the  ex- 
cuse can  hardly  reconcile  one  to  defects  which  are 
characteristic  of  the  tyro  rather  than  of  the  ex- 
perienced novelist.  It  would  seem  far  better  not 
to  blink  the  fact,  but  to  admit  fairly  and  squarely, 
that  jNIeredith  was  out  of  his  element  when  he  at- 
tempted to  present  the  yeoman  character.  At  all 
events,  he  certainly  learned  his  lesson,  since  he  never 
again  saw  fit  to  centre  the  plot  of  a  novel  around  any 
but  those  whose  social  instincts  were  actually  fine 
or  presumably  so.  The  field  in  which  he  could  do 
his  best  was  wide  enough  without  the  need  of  an 
attempt  on  his  part  to  enlarge  its  boundaries  and 
to  trespass  upon  George  Eliot's  ground. 

Fortunately  the  result  of  Meredith's  mistaken 
ambition  was  not  an  absolute  failure.  Indeed, 
whatever  lack  of  finish  the  story  may  show,  how- 
ever crude  it  may  seem  here  and  there,  "Rhoda 
Fleming"  is  neither  to  be  ignored  nor  to  be  regarded 
lightly.  If  the  frequent  allusion  to  their  mother's 
Bible  fails  to  surround  the  two  sisters  with  the  re- 
ligious atmosphere  which  envelops  Dinah  IMorris 
and  Adam  Bede,  the  repentance  of  Edward  Blancove 
is  more  real  and  convincing  than  Arthur  Donni- 
thorne's  remorse.  If  Robert  Eccles  is  an  inconsis- 
tent character  through  his  appearing  now  a  yokel, 
now  a  brute,  now  a  blackguard,  and  now  a  gentle- 
man, Major  Waring's  unwavering  refinement  makes 
him  always  attractive,  noble,  and  admirable.  If 
Mrs.  Lovell's  life  in  India  and  the  incident  of  the 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  97 

blood-spotted  handkerchief  are  so  briefly  touched 
upon  as  to  leave  the  reader  in  a  quandary,  the  careful 
study  and  minute  delineation  of  Rhoda  are  suffi- 
ciently satisfying  to  awaken  sympathy,  although  her 
convictions  may  not  themselves  gain  approval. 

Nor  is  it  too  much  to  apply  the  over-worn  epithet 
of  "Shakespearean  "  to  a  work  in  which  the  idea  of 
nemesis  is  so  consistently  worked  out.  Farmer  Flem- 
ing visited  a  severe  punishment  upon  his  daughter 
Rhoda,  because  of  her  sympathy  for  a  girl  who  had 
wandered  from  the  path  of  virtue,  and  the  time 
came  when  the  disgrace  of  his  beloved  Dahlia  was 
a  burden  almost  too  great  for  him  to  bear.  Rhoda 
pitilessly  insisted  that  Dahlia  against  her  will  should 
marry  Sedgett,  and  in  so  doing  she  produced  con- 
ditions which  all  but  forced  her  into  an  unwilling 
union  with  Algernon  Blanco ve.  Edward  abandoned 
Dahlia,  when  he  mistakenly  supposed  that  he  had 
grown  wholly  tired  of  her,  and  was  afterwards  forced 
to  learn  that  repentance,  although  it  may  gain 
forgiveness,  cannot  revive  a  love  which  cruelty 
and  neglect  have  crushed.  In  other  words,  the 
book  teaches  with  no  uncertain  tone  that  char- 
acter is  its  own  punishment,  its  own  reward,  its  own 
destiny.  As  clearly  from  the  lips  of  Meredith  as 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Apostle  issues  the  message 
"Be  not  deceived;  God  is  not  mocked;  for  what- 
soever a  man  soweth  that  shall  he  also  reap." 

"Rhoda  Fleming"  and  "Vittoria"  were  the  last 
sustained  works  produced  by  Meredith  in  the  first 
period  of  his  career  as  novelist.  During  the  next 
few  years,  a  review  or  a  poem  signed  by  his  name 


!)8   THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

might  be  occasionally  chanced  upon  in  the  maga- 
zines of  the  time;  but  on  the  whole,  Meredith  for 
some  reason  preferred  to  keep  silence.  Had  he  per- 
sisted in  such  preference,  it  may  be  almost  safely  as- 
serted that  his  name  would  not  now  be  remembered 
or,  if  remembered,  as  that  of  an  author  of  one  book, 
namely,  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel."  At 
best,  indeed,  he  had  done  little  more  by  1870  than 
furnish  an  example  in  proof  of  Oliver  Wendell 
Holmes's  comment  at  his  "  Breakfast  Table  ": 

"  Every  articulately-speaking  human  being  has  in 
him  stuff  for  one  novel  in  three  volumes  duodecimo. 
.  .  .  There  is  great  danger  that  a  man's  first  life- 
story  shall  clean  him  out,  so  to  speak,  of  his  best 
thoughts.  Most  lives,  though  their  stream  is  loaded 
with  sand  and  turbid  with  alluvial  waste,  drop  a  few 
golden  grains  of  wisdom  as  tliey  flow  along.  Often- 
times a  single  cradling  gets  them  all,  and  after  that 
the  poor  man's  labor  is  only  rewarded  by  mud  and 
worn  pebbles." 

To  regard  "  Evan  Harrington  "  and  the  three  novels 
succeeding  it  as  no  better  than  the  silt  washed  down 
by  the  gold-bearing  river  would  be  to  do  them  mani- 
fest injustice;  yet  it  is  little  doubtful,  that  in  many 
respects,  each  of  the  stories,  wdien  viewed  in  its  en- 
tirety, is  inferior  to  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Fev- 
erel." That  book,  far  from  successful  as  it  was  in 
attracting  readers  at  the  time  of  its  appearance,  now 
stands  out  even  among  the  great  novels  of  INIere- 
dith's  famous  contemporaries  as  a  piece  of  rare 
w^orkmanship.  Still,  the  later  books,  when  taken  in 
contrast  with  the  first,  exhibit  in  matters  of  detail  a 


THE  JOURNEYMAN  99 

greater  firmness  of  touch,  a  more  confident  breadth 
of  sweep,  a  surer  consciousness  of  power,  indicative 
of  growth  in  both  strength  and  wisdom.  Further- 
more, however  much  or  Httle  the  influence  of  other 
novehsts  may  be  truly  assumed  to  have  dyed  the 
earher  textures  woven  in  the  looms  of  Meredith's 
thought,  the  last  fabric  which  he  drew  out  as  a  jour- 
neyman was  beyond  all  question  or  suspicion  wholly 
his  own.  The  five  years  of  silence  which  followed 
have  been  mistakenly  regarded  by  some  as  a  period 
of  dissatisfaction  and  contempt  with  a  world  which 
would  not  read  his  books.  Rather  should  it  be 
looked  upon  as  a  time  of  rest  preceding  great 
achievement.  At  all  events,  when  "  The  Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond"  appeared  in  1871,  a  change 
had  occurred  in  its  author:  the  journeyman  had 
become  a  master-workman. 


IV 

THE  MASTER-WORKMAN 

THE    PERIOD    OF    FREE    INVENTION — "tHE    ADVENT- 
URES     OF      HARRY      RICHMOND" — "bEAUCHAMP'S 

career" — "short   stories" — "the  egoist" — 
"the  tragic  comedians." 

The  career  of  the  artisan  is  largely  determined 
by  the  continuous  co-operation  of  two  forces — 
power  and  ambition.  Either  without  the  other 
scarcely  ever  produces  a  resultant  of  any  appreci- 
able value,  but  when  the  two  forces  are  properly 
balanced,  they  are  mutually  corrective,  since  the 
possession  of  power  tends  to  prevent  idle  dreaming, 
and  a  clearly  perceived  goal  is  an  incentive  to  per- 
severance. Now,  not  all  of  those  whose  fortune  it  is 
to  become  journeymen  preser\^e  the  balance  of 
inner  forces,  which  leads  eventually  to  master- 
workmanship.  Either  there  is  a  lack  of  true  pro- 
portion between  their  ambition  and  their  power,  or 
their  vision  for  some  reason  becoming  dull,  they  are 
content  to  sit  down  by  the  highway  rather  than  to 
follow  it  to  the  end.  Others,  however,  press  on  to 
complete  success.  Now  and  then,  a  man  reconciles 
himself  in  the  days  of  his  apprenticeship  to  the  hard 
labor,  the  disciplinary  task,  and  the  irksome  com- 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  lUl 

mand,  because  he  is  wise  enough  to  see  that  endur- 
ance of  these  things  is  necessary  to  his  training.  In 
the  succeeding  years  when  as  journeyman  he  is  to  a 
large  extent  his  own  master,  but  still  has  to  listen  to 
the  orders  of  an  employer,  he  does  not  fall  into  dis- 
couragement because  of  harsh  and  perhaps  unjust 
criticism,  nor  does  he  permit  himself  to  rest  satisfied 
with  his  past  accomplishments  because  they  have 
called  out  approving  or  flattering  commendations. 
On  the  contrary,  too  self-confident  to  be  over  de- 
pressed, and  too  sane  to  be  unduly  elated,  he  gathers 
strength  from  within  and  from  without  to  strive 
still  for  the  full  realization  of  his  purpose;  until  at 
last  having  reached  the  goal,  he  has  the  right  to 
say,  with  that  mingled  humility  and  pride  which  is 
true  greatness, 

"I  stand  on  my  attainment." 

The  criteria  of  a  master-workman  are  various. 
Some,  of  course,  are  far  more  important  than  others. 
Most  striking  of  all  perhaps  is  that  self-trust  which 
caused  Horace  to  say,  that  he  had  builded  in  his 
"Odes"  a  monument  more  lasting  than  bronze,  and 
which  led  Shakespeare  to  prophesy  eternal  life  for 
his  "Sonnets."  This  confidence,  indeed,  does  not 
always  express  itself  in  words,  for  mere  persist- 
ence in  following  out  theories  in  spite  of  adverse 
criticism  is  evidence  that  a  man  considers  his  work 
good.  Every  piece  of  art  so  placed  before  the  world, 
whether  it  be  a  painting,  a  symphony,  or  a  book  is  a 
challenge.  Its  maker  is  really  saying;  "I  hear  your 
criticism,  I  admit  that  I  do  not  seem  to  follow  the  ac- 


102     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

cepted  canons  of  art;  but  look  at  my  work,  judge  for 
yourselves,  and  let  it  stand  or  fall  by  its  own  worth." 
Had  it  not  been  for  this  fearless  self-confidence,  grow- 
ing out  of  the  knowledge  that  art  is  for  man  and  not 
man  for  art,  the  world  would  have  been  poorer  by  the 
lack  of  the  best  works  of  such  painters  and  sculptors 
as  Raphael  and  Angelo,  of  such  musicians  as  Bee- 
thoven and  Wagner,  and  of  such  poets  as  Words- 
worth and  Tennyson  and  BrowTiing.  Usually,  how- 
ever, if  a  man  will  but  continue  to  force  his  work 
upon  the  world  long  enough,  he  will  at  last  extort 
consideration,  since  contempt  for  destructive  criti- 
cism has  a  charm  which  eventually  attracts  attention 
and  wins  admiration.  Popularity,  therefore,  partic- 
ularly if  it  comes  after  a  period  of  indifference  and 
if  it  shows  any  tendency  to  remain  permanent,  may 
be  regarded  as  a  second  indication  that  one  is  a 
master-workman.  But  a  far  more  conclusive  test  of 
such  attainment,  for  popularity  indeed  may  appear 
at  almost  any  time  in  one's  career,  is  the  publication 
of  studies  and  commentaries  by  others,  and  the 
appearance  of  imitations  more  or  less  faithful.  The 
former  will  range  all  the  way  from  those  which  in- 
sist that  there  is  nothing  whatever  of  good  in  the 
works  under  discussion,  to  those  which  claim  that 
an  acquaintance  with  them  is  the  final  shibboleth 
of  culture;  the  latter  will  include,  as  extremes,  the 
exact  copy  which  is  too  nearly  perfect  to  be  called  a 
plagiarism,  and  the  work  which  shows  its  maker  to 
have  been  a  student  of  his  master's  methods  rather 
than  of  his  mannerisms. 

If  these  four  marks  are  admitted  to  be  true  signs 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  1U3 

that  a  man  has  left  the  days  of  journeyman  work  be- 
hind him,  certainly  the  years  of  Meredith's  life  after 
1870  may  be  looked  upon  as  his  period  of  master- 
workmanship.  His  confidence  that  his  judgment 
and  his  theories  of  novel-writing  could  not  be  seri- 
ously at  fault,  became  more  pronounced  than  ever; 
his  popularity  steadily  increased;  three  extended 
commentaries  upon  his  work  appeared;  a  host  of 
briefer  studies  presented  him  at  varying  angles  of  ele- 
vation; and,  in  addition,  a  number  of  young  novel- 
ists, flattering  themselves  that  by  snatching  a  shred 
from  Meredith  here  and  a  patch  there  they  might 
re-enact  the  fable  of  the  daw  with  the  peacock's  feath- 
ers, but  escape  that  foolish  bird's  unfortunate  end, 
sought  to  charm  the  ear  of  the  reading  public  with 
imitations  of  the  products  of  Meredith's  genius. 

Certain  minor  facts  may  also  be  mentioned  as 
furnishing  further  proof  that  Meredith  had  entered 
upon  the  culminating  period  of  his  career.  In  1873 
"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  was  translated 
into  Italian;  from  time  to  time  American  publish- 
ers issued  several  of  Meredith's  novels;  the  more 
important  reviews  of  Germany  and  France  began  to 
take  account  of  the  man  and  his  work;  and  the 
London  Punch  saw  fit  to  print  burlesques  both  of 
his  prose  and  his  verse,  and  to  present  his  portrait 
in  caricature.  Still  further,  two  volumes  of  "  elegant 
extracts"  were  prepared  for  those  who  were  com- 
pelled to  take  their  Meredith  in  homoeopathic 
doses;  and  in  1898  there  appeared  as  a  final  proof 
of  true  greatness — a  "George  Meredith  Birthday 
Book!"     Among  contemporary  authors,  Thomson, 


104     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

the  poet  of  despair,  Swinburne,  the  poet  of  con- 
temptuous discontent;  and  Tennyson,  the  poet  of 
faith  and  hope,  each  spoke  of  him  in  no  uncer- 
tain words  of  praise;  critics  Hke  Symons  and  Saints- 
bury  and  Dowden  dehghted  to  do  him  honor;  and 
noveHsts  varied  all  the  way  in  their  expressions  of 
approval  from  the  extreme  worship  of  Stevenson  to 
Mrs.  Humphry  Ward's  restrained,  but  true-hearted 
exclamation,  "The  Master  of  us  all,  George  Mere- 
dith!" Finally,  it  is  of  no  little  importance  in  this 
connection  to  learn  that  a  Scotch  university,  never 
very  prodigal  of  such  honors,  conferred  upon  him 
the  degree  of  LL.D.;  and  also  that  when  the  death 
of  Tennyson  in  1892  left  the  British  Society  of 
Authors  without  a  President,  no  word  of  dissent 
marred  the  prompt  election  of  Meredith  as  the  Poet 
Laureate's  fittest  successor. 

But  although  the  second  half  of  jNIeredith's  life 
may  be  looked  upon  as  a  period  of  realized  ambi- 
tion, the  work  of  the  two-score  years  following  1870, 
homogeneous  as  it  appears  from  some  points  of  view, 
still  permits  the  classification  already  spoken  of,  into 
the  novels  produced  in  the  decade  when  his  invention 
allowed  itself  free  play,  and  those  \\Titten  during 
the  ten  years  when  his  interest  concentrated  itself 
upon  a  study  of  problems  presented  by  ill-sorted 
marriage.  The  eight  novels  of  the  whole  period 
are  alike  in  that  they  show  their  author  to  be 
completely  emancipated  from  any  obvious  outside 
influence;  but,  none  the  less,  the  grouped  works 
of  these  two  decades  of  later  composition  are  so 
strongly   distinguished   from   each   other   in    many 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  105 

respects,  that  either  may  be   made  the  subject  of 
separate  observation. 

The  third  period  of  Meredith's  Hterary  produc- 
tion, then,  may  be  characterized  as  "free"  in  two 
senses  of  the  word :  free,  in  that  the  writer  was  no 
longer  hampered  by  the  study  of  models;  free,  also, 
from  the  much  higher  and  more  important  point  of 
view  that  he  showed  himself  possessed  of  a  range 
of  vision,  a  power  of  analysis,  and  an  originality  of 
style,  which  gave  him  a  unique  place  among  Eng- 
lish novelists.  "The  Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond," it  may  be  urged  in  partial  proof  of  this  claim, 
is  Meredith's  only  example  of  autobiographical  fic- 
tion— that  is,  in  the  sense  of  its  being  written  in  the 
first  person;  "Beauchamp's  Career"  is  his  strongest 
political  novel;  "The  Egoist"  is  the  most  striking 
study  in  literature  of  character  dominated  by  a  single 
trait;  and  "The Tragic  Comedians,"  since  Meredith 
himself  disclaimed  the  charge  that  "Diana  of  the 
Crossways"  was  founded  upon  an  episode  in  the 
life  of  the  Honorable  Mrs.  Norton,  is  the  author's 
only  essay  in  the  presentation  of  a  plot  dealing  with 
persons  who  actually  lived,  and  with  events  which 
really  took  place.  In  matter  of  form,  Meredith,  with 
even  more  conspicuous  success  than  in  his  earlier 
work,  managed  to  weld  the  theory  of  the  comedy  to 
that  of  the  novel.  And,  finally,  a  return  with  increased 
power  to  the  use  of  the  epigrammatic  style  which  was 
characteristic  of  "The  Shaving  of  Shagpat"  and  of 
"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel,"  made  him  widely 
quotable  for  his  wit,  but  unfortunately  also  laid  him 
bare  to  the  charge  of  being  wilfully  obscure. 


100     THE  NO\^LS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

"The  Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond,"  which 
opened  this  third  decade  of  Meredith's  Hterary  life, 
made  its  first  appearance  in  the  Cornhill,  where,  em- 
bellished with  full-page  illustrations  by  George 
du  jNIaurier,  it  ran  from  September,  1870,  until 
November,  1871.  Immediately  upon  its  completion 
here,  it  was  published  in  book  form,  and  its  popu- 
larity was  so  great  that  a  second  edition  was  called 
for  within  two  months.  For  the  benefit  of  the 
curious  in  such  matters,  it  may  be  said  that  this 
novel  is  Meredith's  longest  story,  for  in  the  limited 
uniform  edition  of  the  works  it  consists  of  fifty-six 
chapters  printed  upon  seven  hundred  and  sixty 
demi-octavo  pages.  The  number  of  characters,  too, 
is  remarkably  large,  there  being  one  hundred  and 
sixty-nine, — that  is,  more  than  appear  in  "The  Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel"  and  "Sandra  Belloni" 
taken  together,  and  as  many  more  than  are  found 
in  "Vittoria"  as  there  are  personages  in  "Rhoda 
Fleming."  Unimportant  as  these  details  are  in  them- 
selves, we  are  forced  to  regard  them  as  giving  some 
foundation  to  the  frequently  repeated  charge  that 
the  story  is  a  rambling  one.  Certainly,  it  is  far  less 
compact  than  any  which  preceded  it;  and  the  events, 
it  cannot  be  denied,  are  often  episodic  and  some- 
times digressive  rather  than  obviously  integral  parts 
of  a  unified  plot.  The  scene  of  the  action,  more- 
over, touches  all  the  continents  of  the  Eastern  Hem- 
isphere; and  characters  appear  from  every  important 
European  district  except  Russia  and  the  Scandina- 
vian peninsula.  On  the  other  hand,  no  such  con- 
fusion arises  in  the  mind  of  the  reader  who  follows 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  107 

the  vicissitudes  of  that  magnificent  charlatan,  Au- 
gustus Fitz-George  Frederick  William  Richmond 
Guelph  Roy,  as  results  from  an  attempt  to  thread 
the  intricate  maze  surrounding  Emilia  Alessandra 
Belloni  Vittoria  Campa.  Despite  its  looseness  of 
construction,  therefore,  "The  Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond,"  as  a  story,  is  indisputably  superior  to 
the  novel  immediately  preceding  it;  and  some  critics 
have  even  gone  as  far  as  to  hold  that  it  is  an  im- 
provement upon  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel." 
As  in  "Evan  Harrington"  the  reputed  hero  is  far 
less  important  and  interesting  than  his  sister,  the 
Countess  de  Saldar,  so  in  "The  Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond,"  the  youth  whose  name  appears  in  the 
title  of  the  book,  does  not  at  any  time  make  himself 
so  attractive  to  the  reader  as  does  his  father,  Roy 
Richmond.  The  latter  is  a  favorite  from  the  mid- 
night hour  when,  with  his  infant  son  in  his  arms,  he 
makes  his  way  across  the  Hampshire  heath  country, 
until  the  night  when  he  perishes  at  the  burning  of 
Riversley  Grange,  in  the  only  imaginable  manner 
really  befitting  the  end  of  his  strange  and  eventful 
career.  What  if  he  be  a  cheat,  an  impostor, 
a  mountebank?  His  every  action  is  on  a  scale  so 
magnificent  as  to  awaken  not  only  interest,  but 
sympathy.  He  has  the  generic  characteristics  of  the 
Great  Mel  and  of  the  Countess,  his  daughter,  but  his 
ambition  is  greater  than  theirs;  for  while  the  Lym- 
port  tailor  and  his  youngest  child  would  have  been 
satisfied  to  be  written  among  the  nobility,  the  spur 
pricking  the  sides  of  Roy  Richmond's  intent  was 
nothing  less  than  a  desire  to  be  counted  of  the  blood- 


lOS     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

royal.  His  preposterous  claims,  which  he  himself  al- 
most believed  authentic,  his  extravagant  conduct, 
which  by  its  originality  held  ridicule  and  laughter 
very  nearly  in  check;  his  astute  planning,  which  came 
close  to  uniting  his  son  with  the  Princess  of  a  German 
State,  go  far  indeed  toward  winning  the  reader  to 
his  side.  Nevertheless,  Meredith  by  causing  Roy 
Richmond  to  fail  again  and  again  at  the  moment 
when  success  is  almost  within  reach,  awakens  sup- 
pressed ironic  laughter.  Roy  Richmond,  therefore, 
is  no  mere  caricature  in  Dickens's  style,  nor,  what- 
ever the  author  of  "Sentimental  Tommy"  has  to  say 
to  the  contrarv',  is  he  to  be  compared  with  Thack- 
eray's Barry  Lyndon:  rather  he  is  the  consummate 
production  of  that  side  of  ^Meredith's  genius  which 
created  Mrs.  Berry,  Tom  Cogglesby,  ]Mr.  Pericles, 
and  Anthony  Hackbut. 

The  charge  is  sometimes  made  that  a  man  like 
Roy  Richmond  could  not  in  real  life  be  crushed  by 
the  discovery  that  the  source  of  his  mysterious  in- 
come is  Dorothy  Beltham  instead  of  a  frightened 
government  eager  to  buy  his  silence.  His  repent- 
ance, too,  after  his  unexpected  and  overwhelming 
defeat,  it  is  said,  is  hardly  convincing,  and  is  cer- 
tainly the  weakest  part  of  the  story.  Perhaps;  still, 
even  if  these  charges  be  admitted  without  question, 
the  earlier  chapters  describing  his  life  with  his  boy 
are  well  nigh  perfect;  so  nearly  perfect  in  fact  that 
they  would  save  any  novel  from  oblivion.  Nor  does 
Roy  Richmond,  in  spite  of  all  his  defects,  ever  wholly 
lose  the  splendor  which  there  irradiates  him.  He 
must  have  been  a  wonderful  father — ^}'et  ^Meredith 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  109 

never  makes  him  so  wonderful  as  to  appear  impossi- 
ble. Whether  he  was  a  caravan  of  wild  beasts  or 
the  interpreter  of  Punch  and  Judy,  whether  he 
talked  to  Harry  of  Nelson  or  of  Pitt,  he  must  have 
been  a  rare  delight; — and,  beyond  a  doubt,  supreme 
joy  was  the  lot  of  a  child  whose  father  could  make  all 
the  mighty  characters  of  Shakespeare's  plays  live  in 
one  grand  fantasy! 

"The  scene  where  Great  Will  killed  the  deer, 
dragging  Falstaff  all  over  the  park  after  it  by  the 
light  of  Bardolph's  nose,  upon  which  they  put  an 
extinguisher,  if  they  heard  any  of  the  keepers,  and  so 
left  everybody  groping  about  catching  the  wrong 
person,  was  the  most  wonderful  mixture  of  fun  and 
tears.  Great  Will  was  extremely  youthful  but 
everybody  in  the  park  called  him  "Father William  "; 
and  when  he  wanted  to  know  which  way  the  deer  had 
gone.  King  Lear  punned  and  Lady  Macbeth  waved 
a  handkerchief  for  it  to  be  steeped  in  the  blood  of 
the  deer;  Shy  lock  ordered  one  pound  of  the  carcass; 
Hamlet  offered  him  a  three-legged  stool ;  and  a  num- 
ber of  kings  and  knights  and  ladies  lit  their  torches 
from  Bardolph's  nose;  and  away  they  flew,  distract- 
ing the  keepers  and  leaving  Will  and  his  troop  to 
follow  the  deer.  That  poor  thing  died  from  a  differ- 
ent weapon  at  each  recital,  though  always  with  a 
flow  of  blood  and  a  successful  dash  of  his  antlers 
into  Falstaff;  and  to  hear  Falstaff  bellow!  But  it 
was  mournful  to  hear  how  sorry  Great  Will  was 
over  the  animal  he  had  slain.  He  spoke  like  music. 
I  found  it  pathetic  in  spite  of  my  knowing  that  the 
whole  scene  was  lighted  up  by  Bardolph's  nose. 


110     THE  N0\T:LS  of  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

When  I  was  just  bursting  out  crying — for  the  deer's 
tongue  was  lolling  out  and  quick  pantings  were  at 
his  side;  he  had  little  ones  at  home — Great  Will  re- 
membered his  engagement  to  sell  Shylock  a  pound  of 
the  carcass;  determined  that  no  Jew  could  eat  of  it, 
he  bethought  him  that  Falstaff  could  well  spare 
a  pound,  and  he  said  the  Jew  would  not  see  the  differ- 
ence; Falstaff  only  got  off  by  hard  running  and  roaring 
out  that  he  knew  his  unclean  life  would  make  him 
taste  like  pork,  and  thus  let  the  Jew  into  the  trick." 
The  boy  among  whose  earliest  recollections  was 
the  memory  of  such  a  story  as  this,  exhibits  through- 
out his  life  a  likeness  to  his  father  which  is  not  usual 
in  literature.  Novelists  frequently  present  parents 
and  their  children  in  the  same  book,  but  seldom 
W'Ould  the  relationship  be  suspected  if  there  were  not 
some  assurance  or  some  hint  that  it  existed ;  but  here 
the  character  of  Harry  Richmond  is  so  colored  as 
to  make  the  reader  exclaim  now  and  again:  "That 
boy  is  his  father's  own  child!"  In  his  development, 
it  is  true,  he  shows  a  certain  tendency  to  weakness, 
which  as  much  interferes  with  his  being  unfailingly 
attractive  as  it  makes  him  different  from  his  father. 
This,  however,  cannot  be  looked  upon  as  a  refutation 
of  the  similarity  suggested,  for  no  son  is  exactly  like 
his  father,  but  inherits  only  certain  traits  from  him. 
Nor  can  it  be  held  that  the  alleged  similarity  rests 
upon  insufficient  foundation  because  the  younger 
man  never  acts  in  precisely  the  same  way  as  the  older. 
Family  traits  are  most  generally  seen  in  some  turn 
of  the  head,  some  movement  of  the  hand,  or  some 
use  of  words  rather  than  in  anv  extended  line  of 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  111 

thought  or  conduct;  but,  as  is  the  case  with  Roy 
Richmond  and  his  son,  the  Hkeness  is  not  the  less 
clear  because  it  is  not  susceptible  of  direct  proof. 

The  desultory  education  which  the  boy  received 
from  his  father  was  first  supplemented  by  attend- 
ance at  a  Mr.  Rippenger's  school.  In  a  very  faint 
way  the  life  there  makes  one  think  of  David  Cop- 
perfield's  experience  at  Salem  House,  probably  be- 
cause, in  a  very  much  fainter  way,  Temple  is  some- 
thing like  Traddles,  and  Heriot  like  Steerforth. 
However  that  may  be,  throughout  the  treatment 
of  Harry  Richmond's  childhood  and  youth,  Mere- 
dith again  struck  those  perfect  chords  which  he 
sounded  when  he  dealt  with  the  boyhood  of  Richard 
Feverel,  but  which  he  badly  jangled  when  he  in- 
cluded Alec  Jocelyn  and  Dorothy  Loring  in  "Evan 
Harrington."  His  skill  returned,  it  is  true,  with 
the  children  of  Laura  Piaveni  in  "Vittoria"  and 
reached  its  climax  perhaps  with  Crossjay  in  "The 
Egoist."  Still,  the  dozen  chapters  dealing  with 
Harry's  boyhood  are  infinitely  better  than  all  the 
innumerable  stories  of  abnormal  and  precocious 
children  parading  up  and  down  the  pages  of  recent 
magazines. 

One  stops,  now  and  then,  perhaps,  to  wonder  if 
a  boy  could  by  any  possibility  have  so  many 
strange  experiences  as  fell  to  Harry  Richmond's 
lot;  but  whether  he  is  being  fondled  by  his  father, 
or  attaching  himself  to  Julia  Rippenger  and  to 
Heriot,  or  wandering  with  the  gypsies,  or  suffer- 
ing abduction  at  the  hands  of  Captain  Welsh, 
or  making  his  way  through  a  German  forest,  he  is 


112     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

one  of  the  most  natural  boys  in  English  fiction. 
Shortly  after  his  arrival  in  the  court  of  Prince  Ernest, 
however,  he  unexpectedly  develops  into  a  youth 
capable  of  making  most  violent  love.  This  sudden 
leap  forward  startles  the  reader  somewhat;  and  by 
the  time  things  are  readjusted,  Harry  Richmond  has 
ceased  to  be  of  any  special  interest  save  in  so  far  as  he 
is  a  tool  of  his  father's  colossal  ambition.  The  em- 
bers of  his  youth,  it  is  true,  do  occasionally  send 
up  a  fitful  glow  or  aspiring  flash,  but  Harry  Rich- 
mond unfortunately  never  fulfills  the  promise  of  his 
childhood. 

For  a  time,  at  least,  around  this  young  man  as  a 
centre  there  move,  in  addition  to  his  father,  four 
characters  of  no  mean  importance,  his  grandfather. 
Squire  Beltham  of  Riversley  Grange;  his  aunt,  Dor- 
othy Beltham ;  and  the  two  women  who  regard  him 
with  romantic  attachment,  Janet  Ilchester  and  the 
Princess  Ottilia  of  Eppenwelzen-Sarkeld.  The  Squire 
is  a  straight-forward  sturdy  character  not  unlike 
Jonathan  Eccles  in  "Rhoda  Fleming,"  though  he 
is  thrown  into  much  higher  relief  than  the  Hampshire 
farmer.  He  least  of  all  is  befooled  by  Roy  Ptich- 
mond;  and  not  only  in  this  respect,  but  in  others  as 
well,  stands  out  as  one  of  the  few  wholly  sane  char- 
acters in  the  book.  He  belongs,  therefore,  in  the 
class  which  includes  Mrs.  Mel  from  "  Evan  Harring- 
ton," Agostino  Balderini  from  "Vittoria,"  and 
possibly  Major  Waring  from  "Rhoda  Fleming." 
Coarse  and  blunt  he  may  be,  but  he  sees  clearly  and 
he  speaks  with  sincerity.  In  that  last  scene  which 
takes  place  at  London  not  many  days  before  his 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  113 

death,  he  rises  almost  to  grandeur.  Desirous  of 
sparing  his  daughter  as  much  as  possible,  yet  dis- 
gusted with  her  foolish  infatuation  for  her  dead 
sister's  husband;  filled  with  righteous  contempt  for 
his  son-in-law,  but  not  unmindful  that  the  man  is 
Harry's  father;  yearning  with  love  for  his  grandson, 
but  embittered  by  the  knowledge  of  his  wilful  blind- 
ness; he  bursts  out  in  a  masterly  invective  against 
Roy  Richmond,  which  at  last  compels  that  arch- 
charlatan  to  restrain  his  insolence,  and  to  cower  be- 
fore the  storm  of  well-deserved  abuse.  Neverthe- 
less, there  is  that  in  him  which  makes  it  not  impossi- 
ble that  Dorothy  Beltham  should  be  his  daughter. 
If  he  is  sturdy,  she  is  persistent;  when  he  is  nursing 
his  wrath,  she  is  cherishing  her  affections;  when  he 
stands  ready  to  crush,  she  is  eager  merely  to  restrain. 
Unfortunately,  she  is  never  at  any  time  thrown  into 
very  great  prominence,  but,  none  the  less,  she  perme- 
ates the  book  and  adds  a  sweetness  to  what  without 
her  would  sometimes  be  acid  or  bitter,  and  sometimes 
flavorless  or  insipid. 

The  two  younger  women,  the  Princess  Ottilia  and 
Janet  Ilchester,  present  an  interesting  contrast.  The 
former  idealized  Harry  Richmond,  the  latter  saw  him 
as  he  was;  the  former  was  romantic,  sentimental;  the 
latter  far-seeing,  sensible;  the  former  was  governed 
by  the  heart,  the  latter  by  the  head:  yet  the  former 
was  not  unlike  Sandra  Belloni  in  many  respects,  and 
the  latter  was  not  without  some  likeness  to  Clare 
Forey.  Each  of  them  to  some  extent  dissappoints  the 
reader  who  is  hardly  reconciled  to  Ottilia's  content- 
ing herself  with  Prince  Hermann;    and  the  strange 


114     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

aberration  of  mind  which  permitted  Janet  to  engage 
herself  to  the  Marquis  of  Edbury  is  almost  incred- 
ible. Surely  the  well-balanced  intellect  of  the  Eng- 
lishwoman would  have  prevented  her  from  taking 
such  a  step  out  of  mere  pique  at  Harry  Richmond's 
apparent  indifference;  and  it  would  equally  have 
stifled  in  the  very  beginning  any  such  quixotic  whim 
as  marrying  a  man  to  reform  him.  Her  escape  at 
the  stroke  of  the  hour,  however,  must  seem  some- 
thing like  a  straining  of  the  novelist's  art;  but  of 
course  the  eternal  fitness  of  things  demanded  that 
she  should  be  saved  from  the  Marquis.  Still,  her 
later  marriage  to  young  Richmond  suggests  that 
she  was  not  over-successful  in  steering  her  course 
between  Scylla  and  Charybdis,  since  it  is  a  serious 
question  whether  her  life  could  be  happier  in  losing 
a  rake,  only  to  take  up  with  a  stick. 

"  The  Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond  "  is  thought 
by  some  to  have  been  inspired  by  Marryat's  "  Japhet 
in  Search  of  a  Father";  but  no  very  careful  reader  of 
the  two  books  will  feel  that  any  real  connection  ex- 
ists. The  statement  in  all  probability  was  first  made 
by  some  hasty  critic  who  was  perhaps  analogy-mad 
and  therefore  saw  what  he  was  most  eager  to  see. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  two  novels  could  hardly  be  more 
widely  separated  or  be  more  unlike.  Nor  can  the 
claim  that  Stevenson's  "Prince  Otto"  had  its  sources 
in  Meredith's  novel  be  given  much  more  credence. 
It  is  true  that  the  younger  novelist's  book  received 
almost  unstinted  praise  from  Meredith;  it  is  likewise 
true  that  Stevenson  worshipped  the  elder  \^Titer 
nearly  to  the  verge  of  sentimentality,  and  took  much 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  115 

delight  in  referring  to  him  as  his  master.  It  is  still 
further  true,  that  the  names  Otto  and  Ottilia  occur 
in  both  books,  and  that  Doctor  Gotthold  in  Ste- 
venson's romance  is  something  like  Julius  von  Kar- 
steg  in  Meredith's  novel;  but  after  all  the  only 
extended  passage  in  "Prince  Otto"  which  seems  to 
suggest  a  comparison  with  anything  in  Meredith  is 
that  beautiful  chapter  descriptive  of  the  Princess 
Seraphina's  flight  through  the  forest.  That,  indeed, 
has  the  Meredith  flavor  and  never  more  than  when, 
after  the  night  of  fear  and  sorrow,  she  lifted  her  eyes, 
and,  catching  sight  of  that  hue  which  is  never  seen 
but  as  the  herald  of  the  morning,  she  cried  with  joy 
catching  at  her  voice,  "O!  it  is — it  is  the  dawn!" 

The  hunt  for  resemblance  between  authors, 
whether  they  live  at  the  same  time  or  are  separated  by 
long  intervals  of  years,  whether  they  are  of  the  same 
nationality  or  belong  to  races  having  little  in  com- 
mon, is  one  of  the  many  interesting  studies  which 
literature  allows.  The  pleasure,  however,  is  fraught 
with  danger,  since  one  often  runs  near  to  falling  into 
the  trap  of  finding  a  connection  where  none  exists, 
of  jumping  to  a  conclusion  as  ill-founded  as  that  of 
the  man  who  derived  "Moses"  from  "Methuselah," 
by  omitting — ethuselah,  and  adding — oses.  There 
can  be  little  doubt  that  any  attempt  to  connect 
Marryat  and  Meredith  rests  upon  ground  as  unten- 
able as  this  philologist's.  Probably,  too,  the  sug- 
gestion that  there  might  be  some  connection  be- 
tween "The  Parliamentary  Novels"  of  Trollope 
and  "Beauchamp's  Career"  by  Meredith  would  be 
properly  rated  as  hasty  rather  than  well  considered. 


IIG     THE  xXOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

But  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  those  who  took 
dehght  in  "Phineas  Phinn"  and  "Phineas  Redux," 
both  preceding  the  pubhcation  of  Meredith's  pohtical 
novel  by  only  a  few  years,  and  who  likewise  found 
pleasure  in  "The  Duke's  Children,"  a  book  which 
followed  it  by  three  or  four,  must  have  felt  that  the 
atmosphere  of  Meredith's  work  was  not  unlike  that 
of  Trollope's  splendid  series.  Further  than  this, 
however,  the  comparison  cannot  be  carried,  for 
Phineas  Phinn  has  little  in  common  with  Nevil 
Beauchamp,  and  Glencora  Palisser  reminds  one  not 
at  all  of  Renee  de  Croisnel  or  of  Cecilia  Halkett. 

Of  greater  interest  and  of  more  importance  than 
this  faintly  possible  connection  with  jNIarryat  and 
Trollope  is  the  fact  that  "Beauchamp's  Career," 
flanked  on  either  hand  by  six  remarkable  pieces  of 
fiction,  shows  itself  almost  inextricably  bound  to 
both  groups.  That  is,  the  novel  seems  to  have 
been  the  product  of  much  that  went  before  as  it 
was  the  anticipation  of  not  a  little  that  followed.  In 
the  first  place,  politics  had  been  introduced  as  a 
minor  element  in  "The  Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond," the  book  immediately  preceding  it,  and  the 
criticism  directed  by  Dr.  Shrapnel  against  those  who 
accented  the  Ego  was  a  foretaste  of  "The  Egoist." 
Again,  IMeredith  here  kept  up  his  attacks  upon  sen- 
timentalism  whenever  it  appeared,  whether  as  ideal- 
ism or  as  insincerity;  and,  furthermore,  strongly 
hinted  at  the  inadequacy  of  commonly  accepted  ideas 
of  marriage.  Thus  there  can  be  found  in  the  book 
the  informing  ideas  which  permit  the  threefold 
grouping  of  Meredith's  novels  into  those  making  war 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  117 

upon  sentimentalisni,  those  ridiculing  egotism,  and 
those  proving  the  insufficiency  of  the  conventional 
attitude  towards  the  marriage  question. 

Even  more  striking  still  is  the  strong  family  relation- 
ship which  the  characters  of  "Beauchamp's  Career" 
bear  to  those  of  Meredith's  earlier  novels.  Rosamond 
Culling,  both  because  of  her  position  in  Everard 
Romfrey's  house  and  because  of  her  regard  for  Nevil 
Beauchamp,  is  near  to  being  a  reproduction  of  the 
Lady  Blandish  who  suffered  from  the  tongue  of  gossip 
and  cared  for  Richard  Feverel  with  a  mother's  love. 
Mr.  Romfrey  himself  is,  of  course,  not  at  all  like  the 
lord  of  Raynham  Abbey,  but  he  must  suggest  in  more 
ways  than  one  Squire  Beltham  of  Riversley  Grange. 
Great-aunt  Beauchamp,  a  sort  of  half-hidden  force 
in  the  background,  recalls  those  elderly  women, 
Mrs.  Grantley  in  Meredith's  first  novel  and  Mrs. 
Bonner  in  his  second.  Seymore  Austin  has  far  more 
in  common  with  Austin  Wentworth  than  the  mere 
accident  of  name;  and  the  attitude  of  Beauchamp 
towards  the  former  permits  comparison  with  that 
of  Richard  towards  his  older  cousin.  Dr.  Shrapnel, 
too,  is  Professor  Von  Karsteg  written  large;  and 
Renee  de  Croisnel  is  almost  undoubtedly  a  replica 
of  Ottilia  of  Eppenwelzen,  as  Cecilia  Halkett  is  of 
Janet  Ilchester;  but  it  must  be  immediately  added, 
on  one  hand,  that  the  French  woman  is  less  attrac- 
tive than  the  German  princess,  and,  on  the  other, 
that  the  Colonel's  daughter  is  much  superior  to  Squire 
Beltham's  distant  relative.  Great  as  is  the  contrast 
between  the  appearances  of  Rene^  and  of  Ottilia  in 
England,  and  between  the  attitudes  which  their  re- 


lis     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

spective  lovers  take  towards  them,  the  two  events 
and  the  attendant  circumstances  have  sufficient  in 
common  to  show  that  they  must  have  sprung  from 
the  same  creative  mind.  At  this  point  therefore, 
Nevil  Beauchamp  and  Harry  Richmond  become  at 
least  tangent  to  each  other;  and  the  later  engage- 
ment of  Janet  Ilchester  to  Lord  Edbury  may  almost 
permit  itself  to  be  called  an  intersection  with  the 
marriage  of  Cecilia  Halkett  to  Blackburn  Tuckham. 
Yet  "Beauchamp's  Career,"  as  might  be  hastily 
concluded,  is  no  mere  presentation  of  old  puppets  in 
new  relationships.  Nevil  Beauchamp  and  Cecilia 
Halkett,  at  least,  stand  out  in  bold  relief;  and  can 
hardly  be  looked  upon  as  inferior  to  the  greatest  of 
Meredith's  creations.  Certainly  with  the  possible  ex- 
ception of  Carlo  Ammiani  in  "  Vittoria,"  Beauchamp 
is  the  most  interesting  study  in  male  portraiture  be- 
tween Richard  Feverel  and  Willoughby  Patterne. 
It  is  true  that  he  wavered  between  two  loves,  as 
did  Wilfred  Pole  and  Harry  Richmond,  and  thus 
betrayed  a  weakness  which  Meredith  expects  his 
readers  to  condemn,  but  he  possessed  much  greater 
force  of  character  than  either  of  these  men,  and  a 
more  attractive  personality  than  either  Evan  Harring- 
ton or  Edward  Blancove.  Chivalrous,  impulsive, 
ready  to  draw  upon  the  slightest  provocation,  he 
often  carried  those  who  did  not  sympathize  with  his 
political  ideas  to  ground  whither  they  least  wanted 
to  go.  Over-mastered  by  his  heart  when  he  first 
knew  Renee  de  Croisnel,  he  was  disappointed  to 
find  her  less  influenced  by  passion  than  by  fear,  al- 
though later,  when  reason  had  asserted  itself,  he 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  119 

was  able  so  to  act  that  the  lady  was  saved  from  herself. 
On  the  other  hand,  swayed  by  his  intellect,  he  would 
not  listen  to  the  promptings  of  his  feelings  at  a  time 
when  he  might  have  won  Cecilia  Halkett;  and  yet  he 
could  find  little  but  blame  for  her,  when  he  learned 
that,  stiffling  her  affection  for  him,  she  had  consented 
to  a  union  with  the  prosaic  Blackburn  Tuckham. 
It  is  doubtful  if  he  ever  saw  that  the  real  trouble  lay 
in  his  own  vacillation  of  character,  in  his  inability 
to  balance  heart  and  mind  with  that  nice  adjustment 
which  means  perfection  of  soul.  Poetically  consid- 
ered, he  should  have  been  united  in  the  end  with 
Cecilia  Halkett;  but  his  loveless  marriage  of  gratitude 
with  Jenny  Denham  was  just  what  he  deserved  and 
just  what  he  would  have  reached,  had  he  been  a 
character  in  real  life.  Still,  whether  one  is  able  to 
approve  wholly  of  Beauchamp's  extreme  Radical 
idea  in  politics,  or  believes  that  they  rose  out  of  a 
vitiating  fallacy;  whether  one  is  patient  or  overtried 
with  him  as  he  struggles  for  firm  footing  between 
passion  and  reason,  one  finds  that  he  is  a  close  rival 
for  that  sympathy  and  affection  which  nearly  every 
reader  has  for  Richard  Feverel. 

Cecilia  Halkett,  whom  Beauchamp  should  have 
married,  as  compared  with  Renee  de  Croisnel,  whom 
he  would  have  married,  and  with  Jenny  Denham, 
whom  he  did  marry,  is  one  of  the  most  attractive 
portraits  in  Meredith's  gallery  of  women.  From 
the  moment  she  is  first  seen  until  she  passes  into 
memory,  it  is  evident  that  she  was  possessed  of  that 
strong,  beautiful,  and  noble  womanhood  to  which 
Sandra  Belloni  attained  after  years  of  chastening 


120     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

disappointment.  She  loved  Nevil  Beauchamp,  but 
her  affection  did  not  blind  her  to  his  fundamental 
weakness.  Even  such  limitations  as  her  education 
imposed  upon  her  thought  did  not  greatly  lessen  that 
all-inclusive  quality  of  mind  for  which  grandeur  is 
hardly  too  strong  a  term.  The  silence  with  which 
she  endured  the  assumption  of  her  father  and  of 
Everard  Romfrey,  that  women  are  incapable  of  deep 
thought  or  of  clear  insight,  is  evidence  that  she  pos- 
sessed the  very  powers  which  those  men  denied  to  her 
sex.  Indeed,  her  attitude  went  far  towards  putting 
them  in  the  wrong;  for  her  strength  of  character  in 
abstaining  from  self-defence,  threw  the  burden  of 
proof  upon  them;  and  it  became  evident  that  they 
were  sentimentalists,  blindly  accepting  traditional 
ideas  about  woman's  place  in  the  world.  It  is  a 
trifle  hard,  perhaps,  to  reconcile  this  side  of  Cecilia 
Halkett's  character  with  that  which  permitted  her  to 
receive  Blackburn  Tuckham's  proposal  at  a  time 
when  she  must  have  been  confident  that  Nevil  Beau- 
champ  was  on  his  way  to  make  offer  of  his  hand.  But 
IMeredith  seldom  presents  his  readers  with  ideal  con- 
ditions, that  is  with  conditions  which  are  ideal  from 
the  sentimental  point  of  view.  He  is  a  realist  in  the 
sternest  sense  of  the  term;  and  his  problem  is  the 
presentation  of  man  and  woman  in  the  making,  of 
man  and  woman  struggling,  albeit  with  many  re- 
verses, towards  that  perfection  of  soul  which  Mere- 
dith himself  believes  is  the  purpose  and  secret  of  this 
world's  existence. 

In  his  discussion  of  this  problem  Meredith  feels 
it  pertinent  to  give  time  to  the  study  of  the  una- 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  121 

wakened  as  well  as  to  the  wakened,  to  those  who  are 
content  to  remain  in  bondage  as  well  as  to  those  who 
have  heard  the  call  to  freedom.  This,  then,  is  the 
reason  for  Rene^  de  Croisnel's  existence.  She  is 
very  beautiful;  she  is  attractive  to  everyone  of  those 
impulses  of  passion  which  have  caused  the  heart  of 
man  to  hold  his  intellect  in  subjection;  she  is,  it 
might  almost  be  said,  an  embodiment  of  the  tempta- 
tion which  the  monks  of  the  middle  ages  saw  in  every 
woman — the  temptation  which  sought  to-  bind  the 
soul  to  earth  and  to  stifle  ^every  aspiration  to  spiritu- 
ality. The  asceticism  of  the  old  churchmen  would 
undoubtedly  have  been  termed  a  sentimentalism  by 
Meredith,  but  he  could  not  have  -denied  that  in  their 
crude  way,  they  were  endeavoring  to  give  voice  to  a 
criticism  of  their  age  which  he  constantly  preached 
against  his  own.  It  sounded  loudly  in  "The  Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel";  it  was  not  absent,  although 
breathed  more  gently,  in  "Evan  Harrington,"  and 
in  the  two  novels  dealing  with  Sandra  Belloniis 
career;  it  rose  to  shrillness  in  "Rhoda  Fleming"; 
and  with  changed  qualities  of  tone  it  persisted  in 
those  pages  which  dealt  with  the  Princess  Ottilia 
and  Rene^  de  Croisnel.  The  conclusion,  however, 
is  not  to  be  drawn  that  Meredith  looked  upon  the 
presence  of  passion  in  men  and  women  as  working 
a  necessary  degradation  of  character.  If  that  had 
been  his  attitude,  he  would  himself  have  deserved 
the  shafts  of  ridicule  which  he  was  directing  against 
the  world  as  painted  in  the  characters  and  the  inci- 
dents of  his  novels.  His  hope  was  to  make  mankind 
see  that  passion  must  be  subdued  to  intellect  before 


122     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

there  can  be  any  great  growth  of  soul;  and  that,  as 
a  necessary  corollary,  woman  will  remain  the  tempt- 
ress, just  so  long  as  men  act  upon  the  tacit  under- 
standing that  she  exists  as  the  coy  but  willing  vic- 
tim of  his  pleasure.  The  long  continued  and  wide 
extended  acceptance  of  this  interpretation  of  the 
use  of  women,  has  produced,  according  to  Mere- 
dith, a  false  balance  in  society,  and  he  felt  that  it 
was  his  mission  to  point  out  that  the  resulting  evil 
is  working  its  own  punishment.  Women  who  ac- 
cept the  conditions  either  actively  or  passively, 
either  knowingly  or  blindly,  he  thought,  must  be 
brought  to  see  that  they  themselves  perpetuate  the 
degradation  from  which  they  suffer  most;  and  men 
who  persist  in  believing  that  women  have  not  grown 
beyond  what  they  were  in  the  childhood  of  the  race 
retard  thereby  not  only  their  own  advancement, 
but  the  progress  of  the  world  as  w^ell.  So  must  we 
go  on,  said  Meredith  in  "The  Sage  Enamoured  and 
the  Honest  Lady," 

"Until  those  twain,  who  spring  the  root  and  are 
Thq  knowledge  in  division,  plight  a  troth 
Of  equal  hands;  nor  longer  circulate 
A  pious  token  for  their  current  coin 
To  growl  at  the  exchange;  they,  mate  and  mate, 
Fair  feminine  and  masculine  shall  join 
Upon  an  upper  plain,  still  common  mould. 
Where  stamped  religion,  and  reflective  pace 
A  statelier  measure,  and  the  hoop  of  gold 
Rounds  to  horizon  for  the  soul's  embrace. 
Then  shall  these  noblest  of  the  earth  and  sun 
Inmix  unlike  to  waves  on  savage  sea. 
But  not  till  Nature's  laws  and  man's  are  one, 
Can  marriage  of  the  man  and  woman  be." 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  123 

Insistent  as  Meredith  is  in  all  of  his  novels 
upon  the  subject  of  woman's  rightful  place  in  life, 
the  dominant  tone  in  "Beauchamp's  Career"  was 
not  woman,  but  politics.  This,  perhaps,  is  the  reason 
why  the  novel  is  frequently  spoken  of  as  being  un- 
successful. Outside  of  England,  the  average  novel 
reader  is  too  little  concerned  with  the  difference 
between  the  political  parties  of  that  country  to  be 
interested  in  a  story  which  makes  a  discussion  of  them 
an  important  point;  and  in  England  itself  it  is  very 
probable,  as  in  other  lands,  that  the  rank  and  file  of 
citizens  are  Liberals  or  Conservatives  as  much  from 
absence  of  thought  as  from  its  presence.  It  might  be 
expected,  then,  that  the  book  would  prove  little  pop- 
ular, that  even  the  conscientious  reader  should  be 
advised  to  practise  here  and  there  the  useful  art  of 
skipping,  and  that  Dr.  Shrapnel  should  be  designated 
as  "an  unmitigated  old  bore."  None  the  less,  the 
thoughtful  reader  must  find  interest  in  the  fact  that 
"Beauchamp's  Career"  presented  a  new  phase  of 
Meredith's  art,  and  that  it  gave  insight  into  the  mind  of 
an  author  whose  personality  is  not  more  easily  discov- 
erable in  his  works  than  was  Browning's  in  his  poems. 

It  is  of  some  interest,  then,  to  know  that  Mere- 
dith is  an  extreme  Liberal  in  politics  and  is  wholly 
out  of  sympathy  with  the  existence  of  an  aristo- 
cratic class  and  of  an  established  church.  He  even 
goes  so  far  as  to  speak  in  approval  of  women  being 
granted  the  right  of  suffrage,  thus  taking  ground  in 
advance  of  many  of  his  own  party.  His  word  on 
the  matter  might,  of  course,  have  been  anticipated 
by  any  analytic  reader  of  the  novels,  but  his  letter 


124     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

to  The  Times  not  so  very  long  ago  created  some 
flurry.  It  was  called  out  by  what  Meredith  himself 
had  to  admit,  was  the  result  of  mistaken  zeal  on  the 
part  of  certain  women  who  attempted  to  obtain  by 
an  irregularity  what  they  could  not  get  by  due  proc- 
ess of  law.  True  to  the  methods  which  he  fol- 
lowed in  all  his  novels  he  approved  where  he  could, 
but  he  did  not  hesitate  to  disapprove  where  necessity 
seemed  to  require.     In  part  he  wrote: 

"  The  choicer  spirits  of  men  do  now  see  that  women 
have  brains,  and  can  be  helpful  to  the  hitherto  en- 
tirely dominant  muscular  creature  who  allowed 
them  some  degree  of  influence  in  return  for  servile 
flatteries  and  the  graceful  undulations  of  the  snake 
— admired,  yet  dreaded.  Women  must  have  brains 
to  have  emerged  from  so  long  a  bondage.  In  the 
present  instance,  it  is  the  very  excellence  of  their  case 
that  inflames  them.  The  mistake  of  the  women  has 
been  to  suppose  that  John  Bull  will  move  sensibly 
for  a  solitary  kick.  It  makes  him  the  more  stubborn, 
and  such  a  form  of  remonstance  with  him  alienates 
the  decorous  among  the  sisterhood,  otherwise  not 
adverse  to  an  emancipation  of  their  sex.  It  cannot 
be  repeated,  if  the  agitating  women  are  to  have  the 
backing  of  their  sober  sisters.  Yet  it  is  only  by  repe- 
tition of  this  manner  of  enlivening  him  that  John 
Bull  (a  still  unburied  old  gentlemen,  though  not 
much  alive)  can  be  persuaded  to  move  at  all.  There- 
fore, w^e  see  clearly  that  the  course  taken  by  the  suf- 
fragists was  wrong  in  tactics.  It  may  be  argued 
likewise  that  the  punishment  inflicted  on  them  has 
magnified  the  incident  foolishly." 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  125 

Meredith's  later  radicalism  in  politics  and  his 
earlier  sympathy  with  the  Liberal  party  have  more 
than  once  been  the  cause  of  some  carping  on  the 
part  of  those  who  cannot  reconcile  his  holding  such 
political  ideas  with  his  having  served  as  an  editor 
about  1860  upon  The  Ipswich  Journal  and  The 
Morning  Post.  Both  of  these  papers,  it  is  true, 
were  organs  of  the  Tory  party,  but  there  was  noth- 
ing occurring  at  that  time  in  political  England  which 
could  lay  Meredith  open  to  the  charge  of  insincer- 
ity in  writing  leaders  for  the  periodicals  mentioned. 
It  is  said,  however,  that  he  found  the  work  irksome, 
although  he  did  sometimes  take  up  the  cudgels 
against  members  of  his  own  party  when  he  thought 
that  their  enthusiasm  carried  them  too  far.  It  was 
in  this  spirit  that  he  wrote: 

"With  Mr.  Cobden  to  interpret  the  laws  to  us, 
Mr.  Bright  to  regulate  their  application,  and  Mr. 
Pease  to  control  our  passions,  we  are  likely  to  do 
well.  Were  England  subjected  to  the  rule  of  the 
triumvirate,  our  difficulties  with  foreign  nations 
would  be  short.  Mr.  Cobden  would  declare  them 
to  be  in  the  right,  Mr.  Bright  would  proclaim  us 
to  be  in  the  wrong,  and  then  the  final  adjuration  of 
Mr.  Pease  to  lead  us  to  adopt  brotherly  love  as  our 
emblem  would  come  in  with  singular  sweetness  and 
unction." 

This  passage  is  unmistakably  in  Meredith's  own 
style,  as  are  many  others  now  buried  in  old  files  of 
the  papers  to  which  they  were  contributed.  Their 
author  practised  no  economy  in  his  flow  of  trenchant 
humor  and  biting  satire  when  he  thought  occasion 


12G     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

called  for  a  display  of  wit.  A  further  extract,  al- 
though having  no  great  bearing  politically,  may  be 
given  to  show  how  Meredith  dealt  with  other  mat- 
ters of  public  interest.  It  was  currently  reported,  it 
seems,  that  Lord  Palmerston,  the  Liberal  Prime 
Minister,  was  to  be  called  into  court  by  an  indig- 
nant husband.  The  situation  was  too  ludicrous  for 
Meredith's  gravity,  and  he  felt  compelled  to  give 
way  to  the  inspiration  of  the  Comic  Muse,  After  a 
long  article  on  the  matter  he  summed  up  his  ideas  in 
these  words: 

"But  rumor  is  a  wicked  old  woman.  Cannot 
something  be  done  to  stop  her  tongue?  Surely 
one  who  is  an  octogenarian  might  be  spared.  We 
are  a  moral  people,  and  it  does  not  become  us  to 
have  our  Premier,  agile  though  he  be,  bandied 
about  derisively  like  a  feathered  shuttlecock  on  the 
reckless  battlefield  of  scandal.  For  ourselves,  hear- 
ing much,  we  have  nevertheless  been  discreetly  re- 
served, but  now  the  veil  is  drawTi  by  a  portion  of  the 
Press,  and  not  so  delicately  but  that  the  world  is 
taught  pretty  plainly  things  concerning  the  Eternal 
Youth  in  office,  and  the  fatal  consequences  of  his 
toasts  to  the  ladies  which  may  make  some  of  them 
blush.  We  are  indeed  warned  that  nothing  less 
than  an  injured  husband  has  threatened  and  does 
really  intend  to  lay  an  axe  to  the  root  of  our  Pre- 
mier's extraordinary  successes  in  a  certain  awful 
court.  We  trust  that  rumor  again  lies;  but  that  she 
is  allowed  to  speak  at  all,  and  that  men  believe  her 
and  largely  propagate  her  breathings,  is  a  terrible 
comment  on  the  sublime  art  of  toasting  the  ladies 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  127 

as  prosecuted  by  aged  juveniles  in  office.  It  is  a 
retribution  worthy  of  a  Greek  tragedy.  We  are  de- 
termined to  believe  nothing  before  it  is  proved.  It  is 
better  to  belong  to  the  laughed-at  minority  who  decline 
to  admit  that  the  virtue  has  gone  out  of  our  Premier 
than  to  confirm  a  shameful  scandal,  the  flourishing 
existence  of  which  is  sufficient  for  our  moral." 

From  this  arraignment  of  a  gray-haired  Peer 
whom  rumor  looked  upon  as  little  better  than  a 
reprobate,  it  may  be  well  to  turn  aside  for  a  moment 
to  Meredith's  sonnet  upon  the  death  of  a  statesman 
who  went  down  to  his  grave  clothed  with  dignity 
and  honor. 

HAWARDEN 

When  comes  the  Hghted  day  for  men  to  read 
Life's  meaning  with  the  work  before  their  hands 
Till  this  good  gift  of  breath  from  debt  is  freed, 
Earth  will  not  hear  her  children's  wailful  bands 
Deplore  the  chieftain  fall'n  in  sob  and  dirge; 
Nor  they  look  where  is  darkness,  but  on  high. 
The  sun  that  dropped  down  our  horizon's  verge. 
Illumes  his  labor  through  the  travelled  sky, 
Now  seen  in  sum,  most  glorious;  and  'tis  known 
By  what  our  warrior  wrought  we  hold  him  fast. 
A  splendid  image  built  of  man  has  flown; 
His  deeds  inspired  of  God  outstep  a  Past. 
Ours  the  great  privilege  to  have  had  one 
Among  us  who  celestial  tasks  has  done. 

But  interest  in  Meredith's  own  political  ideas  and 
in  his  characterizations  of  Prime  Ministers  must  not 
tempt  us  to  stray  too  far  from  the  field  of  his  novels. 
"  Beauchamp's  Career,"  it  should  be  said  in  passing, 
showed  in  its  style  a  marked  increase  in  those  earlier 


128     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

tendencies  of  its  author  on  one  hand  to  pile  figure 
upon  figure  and  on  the  other  to  force  some  simile  or 
metaphor  to  curvet  and  caper  until  the  reader  grew 
dizzy.  This  lack  of  self-restraint  on  Meredith's 
part  undoubtedly  contributed  to  prevent  the  book 
from  gaining  any  marked  popularity;  and  possibly 
his  whimsical  statement  in  an  early  chapter,  that  the 
reader  need  not  look  for  any  plot  in  the  story,  was 
not  without  similar  influence.  Just  what  Meredith 
meant  by  such  a  warning  is  not  very  clear,  for  cer- 
tainly the  novel  has  far  greater  unity  than  had  its 
immediate  predecessor,  and  it  is  hardly  less  rich 
in  variety  of  incident  than  "Evan  Harrington"  or 
even  "Vittoria."  Perhaps  INIeredith  intended  to 
imply  nothing  more  than  that  he  was  incapable 
of  weaving  plots  of  such  complexity  as  made  the 
fame  of  Wilkie  Collins  and  Charles  Reade.  If 
this  is  the  conclusion  to  be  dra^m,  he  certainly  had 
the  courage  of  his  convictions,  for  in  his  next  book, 
"The  Egoist,"  he  showed  that  interest  may  be  awak- 
ened and  enthusiasm  carried  to  the  highest  pitch 
by  an  extended  work  of  fiction  which  is  as  bare  as  a 
rock  of  even  the  suspicion  of  a  plot.  All  that  Mere- 
dith undertook  to  do  in  the  seven  hundred  pages  of 
what  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  his  greatest  work 
was  to  show  how  a  young  woman  broke  an  unwel- 
come engagement.  Defoe's  "Robinson  Crusoe" 
may  unquestionably  be  termed  a  romance  without 
a  heroine,  Thackeray  certainly  called  "Vanity  Fair" 
a  novel  without  a  hero;  but  here  was  a  work  of  fic- 
tion undoul)tedly  unique  in  the  history  of  literature, 
— a  story  without  a  plot! 


THE  PIASTER-WORKMAN  129 

In  the  four  years  which  intervened  between  the 
appearance  of  the  final  chapters  of  "Beauchamp's 
Career"  in  The  Fortnightly  Review,  for  December, 
1875,  and  the  pubhcation  in  1879  of  "The  Egoist" 
in  book  form  without  the  medium  of  a  periodical, 
Meredith  found  time  to  make  three  experiments 
in  short-story  writing,  and  to  read  a  lecture  be- 
fore The  London  Institution.  These  four  pieces 
of  work,  "The  House  on  the  Beach,"  the  address  on 
"The  Idea  of  Comedy  and  of  the  Uses  of  the  Comic 
Spirit/'  "The  Case  of  General  Ople  and  Lady 
Camper,"  and  "The  Tale  of  Chloe,"  all  appeared 
in  The  New  Quarterly  Magazine,  the  first  three  in 
the  numbers  for  January,  April,  and  July,  1877, 
respectively,  and  the  last  in  the  issue  for  July,  1879. 
As  the  stories  were  not  published  in  book  form  until 
fifteen  years  had  passed,  and  the  lecture  not  until 
score  had  gone  by,  Mr.  J.  M.  Barrie,  writing  in  The 
Scot's  Observer  for  November  24,  1888,  rather  aptly 
termed  them  "The  Lost  Works  of  George  Meredith." 
But  Mr.  G.  S.  Street  was  even  more  fortunate  when 
in  The  Yellow  Book  for  April,  1895,  he  hit  upon  the 
expression,  "Mr.  Meredith  in  Little,"  as  a  title  for 
his  review  of  the  collected  stories.  Mr.  Street's 
theme  was  announced  in  these  words: 

"In  'The  House  on  the  Beach,'  you  have  Mr. 
Meredith,  as  it  were,  in  his  bones.  In  'The  Case 
of  General  Ople  and  I^ady  Camper'  you  have  him 
alive  and  imperfect.  In  'The  Tale  of  Chloe'  you 
have  him  consummate." 

One  may  be  permitted,  perhaps,  to  dissent  from 
the  characterization  of    the  second  story,  but  we 


130     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

cannot  help  feeling  that  INIr.  Street  was  sure  of  his 
ground  and  trustworthy  in  his  conclusions. 

"The  House  on  the  Beach"  was  certainly  a  piece 
of  work  in  Meredith's  early  manner.  jNIartin  Tin- 
man and  his  sister,  Mrs.  Cavely,  might  easily  have 
been  mistaken  for  characters  drawn  by  Dickens; 
Annette  Smith  was  of  the  type  portrayed  by  Thack- 
eray in  Amelia  Sedley;  and  ]Mrs.  Crickledon  in  some 
respects  was  George  Eliot's  Dolly  Winthrop  trans- 
ported from  the  village  of  Raveloe  to  the  Cinque 
Port  of  Crikswich,  Various  phases  of  sentimentality, 
moreover,  were  attacked;  and  the  heroine  was  all 
but  allowed  to  become  the  victim  of  her  mistaken 
devotion  to  a  conventionality.  Still,  despite  this  re- 
turn to  earlier  methods  and  ideas,  the  story  by  no 
means  shows  that  Meredith's  hand  had  lost  its  cun- 
ning, or  that  his  power  of  invention  had  waned. 
Van  Diemen  Smith  was  made  too  pathetic,  through 
being  wounded  in  the  house  of  his  friend,  to  be  the 
subject  of  anything  but  sympathetic  laughter,  even 
when  his  fears  led  him  to  picture  himself  in  a  lu- 
dicrous position.  Still  greater  skill  was  shown  in 
the  manipulation  of  circumstances  by  which  Tin- 
man's deep  and  successful  scheme  to  silence  Little 
Jane's  craving  for  an  increase  of  wages  received  its 
reward  in  making  her  become  the  instrument  which 
laid  bare  his  far  deeper  and  much  meaner  plan  to 
flay  once  more  the  feelings  of  his  friend.  Finally, 
the  description  of  the  storm  demands  mention  at 
least,  since,  in  spite  of  the  strictest  economy  of 
words,  Meredith  makes  his  readers  feel  the  fury  of 
the  wind  and  the  destruction  of  the  flood. 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  131 

"The  House  on  the  Beach,"  humorous  on  the 
whole,  possessed  certain  sombre  elements  and 
showed  an  interesting  exhibition  of  nemesis;  but 
"The  Case  of  General  Ople  and  Lady  Camper"  was 
a  skit  in  Meredith's  very  lightest  manner.  Its  char- 
acters moved  in  the  world  of  which  Meredith  wrote 
with  most  ease;  and  Elizabeth  Ople,  faintly  as  she 
was  drawn,  was  obviously  related  to  Janet  Ilchester 
and  Cecilia  Halkett,  while  Lady  Camper  was  al- 
most a  forestudy  of  Mrs.  Mountstuart  Jenkinson  in 
"The  Egoist."  It  is  not  without  interest  also  to 
know  that  the  title  of  Meredith's  tenth  novel,  "  One 
of  Our  Conquerors,"  was  anticipated  in  the  first 
chapter  of  this  story,  and  actually  mentioned  in  the 
last.  Mr.  Street  will  have  it  that  by  bringing  about 
the  marriage  of  Lady  Camper  to  General  Ople, 
Meredith  spoiled  a  brilliant  and  delicious  farce.  It 
is  true  that  the  suddenness  with  which  the  engage- 
ment was  precipitated  produces  a  feeling  of  shock 
in  the  reader's  mind;  but  surely  the  mental  tort- 
ure endured  by  the  General  while  he  was  being 
pruned  of  his  sentimentalism  and  egoism  rendered 
him  not  undeserving  of  the  reward  which  he  at  last 
obtained.  The  reader's  imagination,  moreover, 
clearly  perceives  that  the  married  life  of  the  General 
and  his  wife  must  have  been  of  a  piece  with  their 
strange  courtship,  for  Meredith  pointed  out  that 
the  man  was  not  tuned,  but  only  tunable,  and  likely, 
therefore,  to  be  a  permanent  fund  of  amusement 
for  the  Lady's  humor.  No  doubt  there  were  other 
things  of  which  the  retired  officer  had  to  be  broken 
besides  his  tendency  to  talk  of  residences  that  were 


132     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

"gentlemanly"  and  sights  that  were  "sweetly 
pretty;"  but  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  a  reduction  to 
collarless  imbecility  was  seldom  necessary  to  bring 
him  into  proper  subjection. 

If  the  story  of  the  General  and  the  Lady  through 
its  inclusion  of  a  striking  phrase  has  any  right  to 
be  considered  a  preliminary  sketch  or  forestudy 
for  "One  of  Our  Conquerors,"  certainly  "The 
Tale  of  Chloe"  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  pen- 
dant to  "The  Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond." 
It  will  perhaps  be  remembered  that  when  the  hero 
of  the  last-named  novel  was  a  small  boy,  his  father 
taught  him  to  speak  with  precocious  supercilious- 
ness of  the  dairymaid  who  became  the  Duchess  of 
Dewlap.  An  episode  in  the  life  of  this  same  young 
woman  soon  after  her  name  became  enrolled  in  the 
Peerage,  formed  the  subject  matter  of  the  third  and 
most  important  of  Meredith's  short  stories.  The 
chief  interest  of  the  reader,  however,  must  centre 
not  so  much  about  the  young  Duchess  as  about 
Chloe,  "that  most  admirable  woman  whose  heart 
was  broken  by  a  faithless  man  ere  she  devoted  her 
wreck  of  life  to  arrest  one  weaker  than  herself  on  the 
descent  to  perdition."  The  story,  as  told,  was  a 
cameo  rather  than  a  piece  of  sculpture,  a  miniature 
rather  than  a  painting;  but  it  showed  none  the  less 
the  touch  of  a  master's  hand.  The  atmosphere  was 
that  of  the  age  of  the  minuet,  of  powder  and  lace. 
Yet  to  the  attractive  melancholy  with  which  authors 
always  invest  scenes  of  that  period,  Meredith  added 
an  element  which  took  the  story  wholly  out  of  the 
realm  of  comedy.     Chloe,  who  tied  a  knot  in  a  silken 


THE  MASTER-WORKIMAN  133 

cord  at  each  fresh  instance  of  her  lover's  unfaithful- 
ness, and  who  at  last  put  the  tangled  strands  to  a 
strange  and  terrible  use,  was  hardly  less  perfectly 
portrayed  than  the  heroine  of  a  Greek  drama.  The 
critic,  therefore,  did  not  greatly  err  when  he  called 
her  one  of  the  noblest  figures  in  tragic  story,  and  held 
that  he  who  told  the  tale  of  her  last  unhappy  days, 
spoke  with  consummate  art  and  perfect  skill. 

If  such  words  of  praise  seem  a  trifle  extravagant 
to  have  been  called  forth  by  a  form  of  literature  in 
which  Meredith  never  did  more  than  perform  a  few 
experiments,  they  certainly  cannot  be  looked  upon 
by  any  fair-minded  reader  as  being  excessive,  when 
applied  to  the  long  novel  which  appeared  in  the  same 
year  with  "  The  Tale  of  Chloe."  Nevertheless,  "  The 
Egoist"  is  not  acceptable  to  every  reader.  If  it 
has  been  made  an  object  of  idolatrous  worship  by 
Stevenson,  it  has  been  torn  to  shreds  and  tatters  by 
William  Watson.  If  the  former  spoke  of  it  almost 
as  if  he  felt  himself  treading  upon  holy  ground,  the 
latter  in  offering  his  words  of  censure  recalled  the 
fable  of  the  bull  in  the  China  shop.  The  creator 
of  "the  dainty  rogue  in  porcelain"  might  have 
trembled  at  first  for  the  safety  of  his  wares,  but  upon 
reassuring  himself  that  they  were  above  his  bovine 
visitor's  huge  antics,  he  no  doubt  settled  down  to 
quiet  laughter. 

"  No  milder  word  than  detestable,"  said  Mr.  Wat- 
son in  his  article,  "no  milder  word  than  detestable 
can  be  applied  to  the  preposterous  style — and  vile 
as  it  is,  it  is  surpassed  by  the,  what  shall  one  call  it  ? 
Intellectual  coxcombry  seems  a  blunt  phrase  but  is 


134     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

any  courteous  phrase  available  that  will  adequately 
describe  the  airs  of  superiority,  the  affectations  of 
originality,  the  sham  profundities,  the  counterfeit 
subtleties,  the  pseudo-oracularisms  of  this  book? — 
Without  constructive  ability,  without  power  to  con- 
ceive and  fashion  forth  realizable  human  creatures, 
wi  hout  aptitude  for  natural  evolution  of  incident, 
without  the  instinct  for  knowing  w^hat  will  keep  com- 
pany awake — jNIt.  Meredith  can  do  an}i:hing  better 
than  he  can  tell  a  story." 

The  citadel  against  which  INIr.  Watson  hurled  this 
diatribe  showed  no  sign  of  yielding,  probably  be- 
cause "The  Egoist"  is  something  entirely  different 
from  what  the  critic  supposed  it  to  be.  It  is  not  a 
story  in  the  ordinary  sense,  it  is  a  study  in  character; 
its  author  used  the  methods  not  of  the  novelist,  but 
of  the  dramatist;  he  treated  language  as  if  it  were 
in  a  plastic  rather  than  in  a  fixed  state,  that  is,  he 
discarded  the  rules  of  the  prose  ^Titer  and  availed 
himself  of  the  privileges  of  the  poet;  and  finally  he 
did  not  aim  so  much  to  amuse  as  to  instruct,  for  the 
purpose  of  the  book  is  to  make  the  reader  turn  his 
criticising  eye  inward  upon  himself,  rather  than  out- 
ward upon  his  fellowman. 

The  story  is  vouched  for  by  Stevenson,  that  a 
sensitive  youth  went  to  Meredith  with  the  com- 
plaint that  he  had  been  held  up  to  ridicule  in  the 
person  of  Sir  Willoughby  Patterne.  "You  are 
mistaken,"  said  the  great  novelist  in  reply,  "the 
Egoist  is  not  you,  he  is  all  of  us."  This  fact,  that 
INIeredith's  readers  are  almost  always  driven  to  self- 
analysis  is  perhaps  the  chief  cause  of  his  being  called 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  135 

a  pessimist  and  a  cynic.  To  see  our  neighbors  under 
the  lash  contributes  mightily  to  our  amusement  no 
doubt,  and  goes  far  to  awakening  a  spirit  of  thank- 
fulness that  we  are  not  as  others  are;  but  our 
laughter  grows  hollow  and  our  satisfaction  ceases, 
when  we  feel  the  flick  of  the  whip  upon  our  own 
shoulders.  Yet  it  is  to  a  full  realization  of  the  value 
of  looking  upon  oneself  in  a  humorous  or  even  a 
ludicrous  light,  that  Meredith  would  bring  every 
man.  In  that,  he  believes,  rests  the  hope  for 
the  future,  whether  of  the  person  or  of  the  race; 
for  if  a  man  can  look  upon  himself  and  his  deeds 
with  healthy  laughter,  there  is  little  danger  of  his 
becoming  sour  or  morbid;  and  whatever  his  failure, 
he  will  be  able  to  learn  from  his  mistakes  and  to 
determine  with  renewed  strength  not  to  bequeath 
to  posterity  a  tumbled  house. 

The  chief  men  and  women  of  "  The  Egoist, "  where 
this  lesson  is  taught  with  the  greatest  insistence,  for- 
bid anything  like  a  summarizing  characterization. 
The  book  must  be  taken  in  its  entirety,  or  be  left 
alone.  Sir  Willoughby,  Clara  Middleton,  Lsetitia 
Dale,  and  perhaps  even  Vernon  Whitford,  Mrs. 
Jenkinson,  and  Crossjay  Patterne  mean  almost 
nothing  when  reduced  to  lower  terms  than  those  in 
which  Meredith  himself  presents  them.  They  must 
be  seen,  now  by  themselves  giving  out  such  native 
lustre  as  they  possess,  and  now  in  company  with  one 
another  that  the  interplay  of  their  brilliance  may 
call  out  flashes  which  would  otherwise  not  even  be 
guessed  at.  In  other  words,  they  are  human  beings 
with  all  the  unexpected  inconsistencies  which  one 


136     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

often  sees  in  real  life,  but  Avhich  one  is  always  sur- 
prised to  find  in  novels.  It  is  futile  to  ask  whether 
Clara  Middleton  possessed  sufficient  strength  of 
character  to  break  her  engagement,  had  circum- 
stances not  assisted  her;  it  is  useless  to  inquire  if  a 
man  would  conduct  himself  as  Sir  Willoughby  did  in 
his  eager  desire  to  escape  a  second  jilting;  it  is  time 
thrown  away  to  wonder  whether  Lsetitia  could  really 
have  brought  herself  to  accept  her  quondam  lover 
when  she  saw  him  shorn  of  the  glamour  with  which 
she  had  invested  him.  These  are  questions  which 
can  have  no  answer,  for  the  ways  of  Meredith's 
characters  are  not  less  inscrutable  than  the  conduct  of 
men  and  women  in  life.  The  reason,  therefore,  why 
"The  Egoist"  gives  us  pause  is,  not  that  it  is  unreal, 
but  that  it  is  too  real.  It  is  a  scourging,  a  flagella- 
tion, a  cutting  to  the  quick.  Meredith  may  be  pleased 
to  call  it  "  A  Comedy  in  Narrative,"  and  the  reader 
may  be  led  thereby  to  expect  opportunity  for  abund- 
ant laughter.  He  will  not  be  disappointed,  it  is 
true;  but  if  he  reads  between  the  lines,  if  he  hears  the 
message  of  the  author,  his  amusement  will  be  grim 
rather  than  hilarious,  thoughtful  rather  than  ex- 
plosive. 

Wonderful  as  "The  Egoist"  is,  however,  unique  as 
most  critics  concede  it  to  be,  it  unmistakably  belongs 
to  the  genus  which  includes  Meredith's  other  novels. 
"  The  Book  of  the  Egoist,"  that  remarkable  collec- 
tion of  aphoristic  comments  upon  life  and  conduct 
from  which  frequent  quotation  is  made,  is  put  to 
the  same  use  in  this  work  as  was  "The  Pilgrim's 
Scrip"  in  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  and  the 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  137 

sayings  of  the  Philosopher  in  "Sandra  Belloni." 
Mrs.  Mountstuart  Jenkinson  has  all  the  penetrative 
power  of  Lady  Camper,  and  by  a  single  phrase  hits 
off  a  character  as  successfully  as  by  a  few  strokes  of 
her  pencil  the  Lady  pilloried  the  conduct  of  her 
middle-aged  lover.  Dr.  Middleton  is  not  less  obtuse 
than  General  Ople,  and  in  the  wilful  blindness  of 
his  selfishness  fully  as  odious.  He  is  as  politely  def- 
erential to  his  daughter,  as  was  Colonel  Halkett  to 
his,  and  when  there  is  a  clash  of  opinions,  strives  to 
be  as  patient;  but  he  has,  like  the  Colonel,  the  con- 
ventional belief  that  women  are  to  be  guided  or  even 
commanded  if  need  be,  since  their  intellectual  quali- 
ties are  at  best  but  rudimentary.  Vernon  Whitford 
belongs  in  the  group  of  which  Professor  von  Karsteg, 
Dr.  Shrapnel,  and  Nevil  Beauchamp  are  likewise 
members,  as  also  at  times  are  Austin  Wentworth 
and  Seymour  Austin.  Clara  Middleton,  of  course, 
is  the  third  and  greatest  in  the  trio  which,  besides 
herself,  is  made  up  of  Janet  Ilchester  and  Cecilia 
Halkett;  but  she  has  qualities  which  remind  the 
reader  more  than  once  of  Sandra  Belloni  at  her  best. 
Indeed,  Clara  Middleton  seems  to  be  the  perfect 
flower  of  Meredith's  earlier  studies  in  womanhood, 
as  almost  beyond  a  doubt  she  is  the  ideal  to  which  his 
later  creations  were  never  more  than  approximations. 
Appearing  in  1879,  "The  Egoist"  stood  in  point 
of  publication  midway  between  George  Eliot's 
"Daniel  Deronda,"  which  preceded  it  by  three 
years,  and  Henry  James's  "The  Portrait  of  a  Lady," 
which  followed  it  by  two.  These  data  are  hardly 
important  in  themselves,  but  the  fact  that  Gwendolen 


138     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Harleth,  the  heroine  of  the  former  novel,  and  Gilbert 
Osmond,  the  heroine's  husband  in  the  latter,  are 
both  pronounced  egoists,  affords  some  opportunity 
for  comment.  The  presence  of  Mr,  Middleton,  a 
curate,  in  "Daniel  Deronda"  and  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Middleton  in  "The  Egoist"  is  of  course  no  more 
than  an  accident;  but  Gwendolen's  posing  as  Saint 
Cecilia  at  the  organ  and  taking  satisfaction  in  the 
admiration  of  her  mother  and  the  housekeeper, 
brings  up  the  scene  in  which  Sir  Willoughby,  when 
a  child,  mounted  a  chair  and  cried  out  to  his  ador- 
ing aunts,  "I  am  the  sun  of  the  house!"  For  a 
long  period  of  years,  neither  the  man  nor  the  woman 
had  had  their  power  or  their  general  superiority  dis- 
puted, with  the  result  that  the  man  before  whom 
Isabel  and  Elinor  Patterne  bowed  down  in  worship, 
and  the  woman  toward  whom  her  mother  was  always 
in  an  apologetic  state  of  mind,  had  each  developed 
a  strong  determination  to  have  what  was  pleasant 
with  an  absolute  fearlessness  in  making  themselves 
disagreeable  or  dangerous  when  they  did  not  get  it. 
Added  to  this,  they  both  had  "that  spontaneous  sense 
of  capability,  some  happy  persons  are  born  with, 
so  that  any  subject  they  turn  attention  to,  impresses 
them  with  their  own  power  of  forming  a  correct 
judgment  on  it."  Still,  despite  this  interesting 
parallel  which  might  be  carried  even  further,  it 
would  be  rash  to  assert  any  actual  connection  be- 
tween Meredith's  novel  and  George  Eliot's.  Noth- 
ing further  can  be  proved  than  that  both  authors, 
at  about  the  same  time,  felt  impelled  to  make  studies 
of  characters  dominated  by  supreme  selfishness. 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  139 

Nor  can  a  much  stronger  case  be  made  out  by  any 
who  may  profess  to  beheve  that  Henry  James  was 
indebted  to  Meredith.  The  styles  of  the  two  authors 
have  much  in  common,  even  to  the  frequent  use  of 
witty  epigrams  or  sharp  aphorisms.  Gilbert  Os- 
mond, too,  is  enough  different  from  Sir  Willoughby 
to  be  startlingly  like  him.  A  dilletante,  Osmond  de- 
lighted to  dabble  in  poetry  and  painting;  a  pseudo- 
scientist,  Sir  Willoughby  spent  much  time  in  his  lab- 
oratory: to  their  acquaintances  the  former  always 
appeared  to  believe  that  he  had  descended  from  the 
gods,  the  latter  seemed  always  to  be  breathing  fumes 
from  votive  censers.  Sir  Willoughby  hoped  to  find  in 
Clara  an  echo,  a  mirror;  Osmond  asked  himself  in 
contemplating  Isabel  Archer,  "What  could  be  a 
happier  gift  in  a  companion  than  a  quick,  fanciful 
mind,  which  saved  one  repetitions,  and  reflected  one's 
thoughts  upon  a  scintillating  surface?"  Each  flat- 
tered himself  that  he  would  have  the  forming  of  his 
wife's  mind  which  was  to  be  attached  to  his  own  "like 
a  small  garden-plot  to  a  deer-park.  Osmond  saw 
himself  raking  the  soil  gently  and  watering  the  flow- 
ers, weeding  the  beds  and  gathering  an  occasional 
nosegay;"  Sir  Willoughby,  of  course,  would  not  per- 
mit himself  the  use  of  such  fanciful  terms,  for  he  felt 
that  he  had  risen  above  the  plane  of  poets;  but  he 
pictured  a  scene  in  which  he  so  guided,  so  watched 
over,  so  instructed  his  wife,  that  she  became  his 
second-self.  Luckily  for  Clara  Middleton  she  es- 
caped being  sacrificed  upon  the  altar  of  egoism,  but 
Isabel  Archer  suffered  the  darker  fate.  In  portray- 
ing her  married  life,  Mr.  James,  probably  all  uncon- 


140     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

sciously  to  himself,  gave  a  sort  of  sequel  to  "The 
Egoist,"  or  rather  what  \Y0uld  have  been  a  sequel, 
had  Meredith  brought  his  novel  to  a  close  with  the 
union  of  Sir  Willoughby  to  "the  dainty  rogue  in 
porcelain"  instead  of  to  the  lady  with  "a  romantic 
tale  on  her  eyelashes."  What  Clara  Middleton 
would  have  become,  had  circumstances  not  permitted 
her  release  from  an  egoist,  that  Isabel  Archer  be- 
came. Looking  upon  his  cousin  in  after  years 
Ralph  Touchett  saw"  that  she  had  completely 
changed. 

"Her  light  step  drew  a  mass  of  draper}'  behind 
it;  her  intelligent  head  sustained  a  majesty  of  orna- 
ment. The  free,  keen  girl  had  become  quite  an- 
other person;  what  he  saw  was  the  fine  lady  who  was 
supposed  to  represent  something.  'WTiat  did  Isa- 
bel represent?'  Ralph  asked  himself;  and  he 
could  answer  only  by  saying  that  she  represented 
Gilbert  Osmond.  *  Good  heavens,  what  a  function!' 
he  exclaimed.  He  was  lost  in  wonder  at  the  mys- 
tery of  things." 

Much  more  closely  related  to  "The  Egoist"  than 
either  "Daniel  Deronda"  or  "The  Portrait  of  a 
Lady  "  was  Meredith's  own  work  called  "  The  Tragic 
Comedians."  Sigismund  Alvan,  the  hero  of  that 
book,  was  a  study  in  egoism,  even  more  pronounced, 
indeed,  if  less  subtle  than  Sir  Willoughby.  Like  the 
English  baronet,  the  Hungarian  socialist  took  pos- 
session of  a  young  woman's  heart  before  her  reason 
had  asserted  itself;  and  though  Clotilda  von  Rudiger 
was  far  inferior  in  every  way  to  Clara  Middleton, 
Alvan  melodramatically  and  almost  hysterically  re- 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  141 

peated  the  essential  acts  of  Sir  Willoiighby's  comedy. 
He  looked  upon  the  lady  as  the  quarry,  himself  as 
the  hunter.  He  expected  to  find  in  her  "  a  sprightly 
comrade,  perfectly  feminine,  thoroughly  mastered, 
young,  graceful,  comely  and  a  lady  of  station.  Once 
in  his  good  keeping  her  lord  would  answer  for  her. 
And  this,"  he  felt,  "was  a  manfully  generous  view 
of  the  situation."  At  a  time  when  circumstances 
thundered  that  he  and  she  must  be  forever  sepa- 
rated, he  recalled  to  her  by  letter  the  day  when  they  had 
stood  together  in  glorious  sunshine  planning  the  work 
of  the  New  Republic.  As  he  wrote,  he  seemed  to  see 
that  "  his  moral  grandeur  on  that  day  made  him  live 
as  part  of  the  splendor. "  With  that  in  mind  he  be- 
gan to  ask  himself,  "Was  it  possible  for  the  woman 
who  had  seen  him  then,  to  be  faithless  to  him  ? 
The  swift  deduction  from  his  own  feelings  cleansed 
her  of  a  suspicion  to  the  contrary,  and  he  became 
light-hearted."  Thus  swayed  by  his  heart  rather  than 
by  his  head,  he  permitted  himself  an  extravagance 
of  language  and  conduct  which  his  reason,  when  it 
began  to  stem  the  current  of  his  tumultuous  blood, 
plainly  taught  him  would  cause  him  to  look  little  less 
than  ridiculous,  if  the  lady  should  slip  from  him. 
The  thought  filled  him  with  agony.  "Anything," 
he  cried,  "but  that!  She  will  not  refuse;  I  am 
bound  to  think  so  in  common  respect  for  myself. 
I  have  done  tricks  to  make  me  appear  a  raging  ape 
if  she — Oh!  she  cannot,  she  will  not  refuse!"  Be- 
side himself  with  fear,  he  looked  for  comfort  within, 
and  he  found  it  by  magnanimously  thinking  that  he 
was  without  meanness  of  soul.     "He  had,  he  felt,  a 


142     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

broad,  full  heart  for  the  woman  who  would  come  to 
him,  forgiving  her,  uplifting  her,  richly  endowing 
her!" 

All  of  these  feelings  were  Sir  Willoughby's  as  well 
as  Alvan's.  His  hasty  engagement  to  Clara,  his 
desire  that  she  should  reflect  him  and  him  only,  his 
determination  to  mould  her  mind,  his  fear  that  she 
would  escape  him,  his  wish  to  be  a  conqueror,  his 
agony  at  the  thought  that  he  might  be  made  the  sub- 
ject of  contemptuous  laughter,  his  willingness  to  go 
to  any  extreme  if  he  might  stand  unashamed  before 
the  world,  all  are  matched  by  the  impulses  of  Alvan's 
heart.  Considering  this  similarity  of  character  be- 
tween the  heroes,  one  is  led  to  ask  how  it  came  about 
that  "The  Egoist"  should  be  considered  the  greatest 
of  Meredith's  novels,  and  "The  Tragic  Comedians" 
the  least  significant.  The  conclusive  answer  is  found 
in  the  very  brief  statement,  that  "The  Tragic  Come- 
dians" is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  novel  at  all.  By 
this  is  meant,  not  that  it  is  too  short,  although  as 
originally  published  in  The  Fortnightly  Review,  from 
October,  1880,  to  February,  1881,  it  consisted  of  only 
fifteen  chapters,  but  that  it  is  neither  more  nor  less 
than  a  plain  presentation  of  those  relations  between 
the  famous  German  socialist,  Ferdinand  Lassalle, 
and  Helene  von  Donniges  which  resulted  in  the  death 
of  the  former  from  wounds  received  in  a  duel  with 
Yanko  von  Racowitza.  Strangely  blind  to  this  fact, 
which  was  known  at  the  time  when  the  book  was 
published,  and  totally  forgetful  that  Meredith  in  the 
prologue  expressly  states  that  the  pair  of  tragic 
comedians  belong  to  history, "  breathed  the  stouter 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  143 

air  than  fiction,"  and  that  not  a  single  incident  was 
invented,  the  critics  have  persisted  in  testing  the  work 
as  a  novel,  and  have  therefore  found  room  for  Httle 
but  disparagement. 

But  George  Meredith's  reputation  as  a  noveUst 
and  poet,  and  his  evident  desire  that  "The  Tragic 
Comedians"  should  be  looked  upon  as  a  story,  both 
demand  that  some  reason  must  be  sought  for  the 
existence  of  a  work  which,  treating  fact  without  in- 
vention, is  yet  neither  biography  nor  history;  and 
surrounding  actual  persons  and  events  with  imagi- 
nation, is  yet  in  no  true  sense  fiction.  Now  the  word 
"fantastical"  has  frequently  been  directed  against 
the  novels  of  George  Meredith  on  the  score  that  they 
give  no  pictures  of  possible  life.  Its  reiteration  at 
last  provoked  reply  and  the  answer  took  the  form 
of  "The  Tragic  Comedians."  Meredith  may  well 
be  heard  in  his  own  defence: 

"The  word  'fantastical'  is  accentuated  in  our 
tongue  to  so  scornful  an  utterance  that  the  constant 
good  service  it  does  would  make  it  seem  an  appointed 
instrument  for  reviewers  of  books  of  imaginative 
matter  distasteful  to  those  expository  pens.  Upon 
examination,  claimants  to  the  epithet  will  be  found 
outside  of  books  and  of  poets,  in  many  quarters, 
Nature  being  one  of  the  prominent,  if  not  the  fore- 
most. Wherever  she  can  get  to  drink  her  fill  of 
sunlight,  she  pushes  forth  fantastically.  As  for  that 
wandering  ship  of  the  drunken  pilot,  the  mutinous 
crew  and  the  angry  captain,  called  Human  Nature, 
'fantastical'  fits  it  no  less  completely  than  a  conti- 
nental  baby's   skull-cap   the   stormy    infant.     Our 


144     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

sympathies,  one  may  fancy,  will  be  broader,  our 
critical  acumen  shrewder,  if  we  at  once  accept  the 
thing  as  a  part  of  us  and  worthy  of  study.  The  pair 
of  tragic  comedians  of  whom  there  will  be  question 
pass  under  this  word  as  under  their  banner  and 
motto.  Their  acts  are  incredible  .  .  .  yet  they  are 
real  creatures,  exquisitely  fantastical,  strangely  ex- 
posed to  the  world  by  a  lurid  catastrophe." 

With  these  words  in  mind,  the  reader  of  "The 
Tragic  Comedians"  plainly  perceives  that  Sir 
Willoughby  Patterne  is  no  impossible  personage, 
for  Ferdinand  Lassalle  did  his  deeds  in  actual  life 
before  him;  that  Nevil  Beauchamp's  treatment  of 
Renee  de  Croisnel  upon  two  memorable  occasions, 
was  but  the  appearance  in  fiction  of  the  great  social- 
ist's conduct,  first  when  dominated  by  his  heart,  and 
later  when  ruled  by  his  head;  and  finally  that  Rich- 
ard Feverel's  foolish  persistence  in  a  course  of  action 
which  darkened  his  life  forever,  might  be  matched 
with  an  event  in  real  life. 

The  style  of  "The  Tragic  Comedians"  on  the 
whole  is  remarkably  unlike  that  of  any  of  ^Meredith's 
other  works,  although  now  and  then,  rather  strangely, 
one  seems  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  early  manner,  as 
seen  in  "Farina."  There  is  almost  a  complete  ab- 
sence of  the  aphorisms  and  epigrams  which  readers 
of  Meredith  always  expect;  and  certainly  no  one  can 
justly  complain  that  the  book  is  in  any  way  obscure 
in  expression  or  meaning.  The  sentences  are 
brief,  so  frequently  brief  that  the  writing  might  be 
termed  feverish.  Accordingly,  "The  Tragic  Come- 
dians," despite  its  value  from  some  points  of  view. 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  145 

might  be  said  much  more  properly  than  "The  House 
on  the  Beach"  to  represent  Mr.  Meredith  in  his 
bones.  It  is  certainly  the  least  significant  of  his  works 
and  cannot  be  regarded  as  an  important  contribu- 
tion to  literature.  Nevertheless,  the  Prologue  and 
the  last  chapter  are  typical  of  the  novelist's  writing. 
Certain  paragraphs  of  the  conclusion  remind  the 
reader  of  the  closing  words  of  "Vittoria,"  and  have 
an  added  interest  in  that  they  give  voice  to  some 
of  Meredith's  conceptions  of  life. 

"Silent  was  that  house  of  many  chambers.  That 
mass  of  humanity  profusely  mixed  of  good  and  evil, 
of  generous  ire  and  mutinous,  of  the  passion  for  the 
future  of  mankind  and  vanity  of  person,  magna- 
nimity and  sensualism,  high  judgment,  reckless  in- 
discipline, chivalry,  savagery,  solidity,  fragmentari- 
ness,  was  dust.  The  two  men  composing  it,  the  un- 
tamed and  the  candidate  for  citizenship,  in  mutual 
dissension  pulled  it  down.  He  perished  of  his  weak- 
ness, but  it  was  a  strong  man  that  fell.  If  his  end 
was  unheroic,  the  blot  does  not  overshadow  his 
life.  His  end  was  a  derision  because  the  animal  in 
him  ran  him  unchained  and  bounding  to  it.  A 
stormy  blood  made  wreck  of  a  splendid  intelligence. 
.  .  .  That  last  word  of  his  history  ridicules  the 
eulogy  of  partisan  and  devotee,  and  to  commit  the 
excess  of  worshipping  is  to  conjure  up  by  contrast 
a  vulgar  giant;  for  truth  will  have  her  just  propor- 
tions, and  vindicate  herself  upon  a  figure  over- 
idealized  by  bidding  it  grimace  leaving  appraisers 
to  get  the  balance  of  the  two  extremes.  He  was 
neither  fool  nor  madman;  nor  man  to  be  adored:  his 


146     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

last  temptation  caught  him  in  the  season  before  he 
had  subdued  his  blood,  and  amid  the  multitudinously 
simple  of  this  world  stamped  him  tragic  comedian: 
that  is,  a  grand  pretender,  a  self-deceiver,  one  of  the 
lividly  ludicrous  whom  we  cannot  laugh  at,  but  must 
contemplate  to  distinguish  where  the  conduct  strikes 
the  discord  with  life.  .  .  .  The  characters  of  the 
host  of  men  are  of  the  simple  order  of  the  comic; 
not  many  are  of  a  stature  and  a  complexity  calling 
for  the  junction  of  the  two  muses  to  name  them." 

With  the  publication  of  "The  Tragic  Comedians" 
in  book  form,  late  in  1880,  Meredith  closed  the  third 
decade  of  his  literary  career,  the  period  of  free 
range.  From  many  points  of  view  the  ten  years  thus 
designated  may  be  looked  upon  as  the  most  important 
part  of  his  life  as  author.  The  several  works  then 
produced  evinced  a  sense  of  proportion,  a  conscious- 
ness of  mastery,  a  disregard  of  arbitrary  methods, 
which  could  not  be  unreservedly  predicated  of  him 
in  1869  when  his  work  as  a  journeyman  was  brought 
to  an  end.  On  the  other  hand,  although  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  he  remained  in  full  possession  of  all 
his  powers  through  that  later  period  which  may  be 
termed  the  decade  of  concentrated  interest,  the  very 
fact  that  there  was  a  limitation  of  range  made  it 
clear  that  in  all  probability  the  time  of  expansion 
was  over,  and  that  thereafter  whatever  energy  re- 
mained in  store  would  endeavor  to  put  itself  forth  not 
in  outspreading  branch  nor  in  upreaching  stem,  but 
rather  in  leaf  and  fruit  and  flower.  At  all  events, 
the  following  decade  of  Meredith's  literary  career 
was  not  noted  for  the  production  of  any  such  re- 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  147 

markable  story  as  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel," 
or  of  any  such  unusual  study  of  character  as  "The 
Egoist;"  but  it  was  marked  by  the  publication  of 
"Diana  of  the  Crossways,"  a  novel  which  gained 
immediate  popularity,  and  by  the  appearance  of 
three  other  sustained  works  of  fiction  which  attracted 
a  respectful  audience,  if  they  did  not  earn  undivided 
admiration.  The  battle  had  been  long  and  hard, 
but  few  felt  safe  in  denying  that  Meredith  had  proved 
himself  a  conqueror.  Clearly  his  rightful  place  was 
among  the  leaders,  in  company  with  Dickens  and 
Thackeray  and  George  Eliot, 


V 

THE  MASTER-WORKMAN 

THE  PERIOD  OF  CONCENTRATED  INTEREST — "  DIANA 
OF  THE  CROSSWAYS" — "ONE  OF  OUR  CONQUER- 
ORS"— "lord  ormont  and  his  aminta" — "the 

AMAZING  marriage" — THE   MEREDITH   SCHOOL. 

After  the  artisan  has  shown  himself  sufficiently 
a  master-workman  to  be  received  with  noticeable  re- 
spect by  serious-minded  men,  he  may  not  unjustly 
feel  it  his  privilege  to  give  emphatic  expression  to 
any  thought  which  he  deems  important.  Up  to 
the  time  when  critics  somewhat  freely  admit  that 
he  is  a  stable  living  force,  he  is  often  compelled 
to  make  use  of  his  powers  in  vindication  of  his 
right  to  be  considered  at  all;  but  when  indifference 
has  given  way  to  attention,  and  censure  to  approval, 
he  may  lay  aside  conscious  effort  to  please  others, 
and  rest  assured  of  a  considerable  audience  inter- 
ested in  what  he  is  doing  to  please  himself. 

Now  there  can  be  but  little  doubt  that  "The 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond"  and  "The  Egoist" 
placed  Meredith  high  in  the  ranks  of  English  novel- 
ists, and  convinced  many  conservative  readers  that 
he  was  worthy  of  much  more  than  mere  passing 
notice.      If    therefore   he  had   ceased  to  write   in 

1880,  he  would  not  have  been  denied  a  permanent 

148 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  140 

and  honored  place  in  literature.  Indeed,  it  may  be 
questioned,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  his  popularity  in- 
creased with  his  later  novels,  whether  the  works  which 
he  wrote  after  the  year  just  mentioned  were  in  any 
way  necessary  to  the  stability  of  his  renown.  Never- 
theless, during  the  decade  beginning  in  1885,  he 
felt  moved  to  produce  four  sustained  pieces  of  fic- 
tion which  may  be  said  to  belong  to  a  period  of  con- 
centrated interest,  inasmuch  as  each  of  them  dealt 
with  complexities  rising  out  of  an  unsuitable  mar- 
riage. In  "Diana  of  the  Crossways"  is  given  the 
story  of  a  woman,  who  marrying  without  love,  was 
afterward  separated  from  her  husband  and  made  to 
take  an  anomalous  and  unhappy  position  before  the 
world;  in  "One  of  Our  Conquerors"  is  presented 
a  study  of  the  attitude  taken  by  society  towards  a 
man  and  a  woman  living  together  in  a  union  un- 
sanctioned by  Church  and  State  but  regarded,  none 
the  less,  as  sacred  by  the  two  chiefly  concerned;  and 
in  "Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta"  and  also  in 
"The  Amazing  Marriage,"  the  reader  is  confronted 
with  the  unhappiness  which  results  from  a  marked 
discrepancy  between  husband  and  wife  in  matters 
of  rank,  age,  or  inclination.  With  the  possible  ex- 
ception of  the  second,  these  four  stories  amply  repay 
those  who  read  simply  to  be  amused,  but  for  others 
who  look  upon  the  novelist  as  having  a  mission  be- 
yond that  of  giving  mere  pleasure,  they  furnish  in 
addition  much  food  for  thought. 

It  may  be  concluded  from  these  facts  that  Mere- 
dith found  in  certain  phases  of  the  marriage  relation 
some  of  the  gravest  problems  furnished  by  modern 


150     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

soCTety.  That  he  looked  upon  the  questions  as 
being  more  than  a  mere  source  of  material  for 
the  novelist,  is  certainly  shown  by  the  fact  that  long 
after  he  had  ceased  the  formal  ^VTiting  of  fiction,  he 
permitted  himself  to  speak  upon  them  at  some  length. 
The  interview,  as  it  was  reported  in  The  London 
Daily  Mail,  for  September  24,  1904,  stirred  up  so 
much  comment  both  in  England  and  in  America 
that  a  few  weeks  later,  Meredith  in  self-defence  was 
led  to  break  his  usual  silence  upon  personal  matters, 
and  to  say  that,  at  least  in  some  respects,  he  had 
been  misrepresented.  As,  however,  he  did  not  state 
that  he  wished  to  withdraw  from  the  position  which 
he  was  asserted  to  have  taken,  his  earlier  remarks 
are  of  some  interest  both  in  themselves  and  on 
account  of  their  connection  with  the  fundamental 
ideas  of  his  later  novels.  In  part  he  was  accredited 
by  The  Daily  Mail  with  sg^ying: 

"  It  is  a  question  in  my  mind  whether  a  young  girl 
married,  say  at  eighteen,  utterly  ignorant  of  life, 
knowing  little,  as  such  a  girl  would  of  the  man  she 
is  marrying,  or  of  any  other  man,  or  of  the  world  at 
all,  should  be  condemned  to  live  with  him  for  the 
rest  of  her  life.  She  falls  out  of  sympathy  with  him, 
say,  has  no  common  taste  with  him,  no  real  com- 
munication with  him  except  a  physical  one.  The 
life  is  nearly  intolerable.  Yet  many  married  women 
go  on  with  it  from  habit  or  because  the  world  ter- 
rorizes them.  Certainly,  however,  one  day  these 
present  conditions  of  marriage  will  be  changed. 
Marriage  will  be  allowed  for  a  certain  period,  say 
ten  years,  or,  well  I  do  not  want  to  specify  any  par- 


THE  MASTER^WORKMAN  151 

ticular  time.  ...  It  will  be  a  great  shock,  but  look 
back  and  see  what  shocks  there  have  been  and 
what  changes  nevertheless,  have  taken  place  in  this 
marriage  business  in  the  past!  The  difficulty  is  to 
make  English  people  face  such  a  problem." 

Although  this  idea  of  the  optional  marriage 
broken  or  renewed  at  the  expiration  of  a  fixed 
period,  had  been  thrown  out  by  Colney  Durance 
in  "One  of  Our  Conquerors,"  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  Meredith,  while  writing  his  last  four  novels, 
had  really  made  the  theory  a  part  of  his  own 
philosophy  of  life.  Nevertheless,  he  did  show 
clearly,  that  to  his  mind,  society  must  needs  enter 
into  a  careful  study  of  the  troubles  resulting  from 
strained  marriage  relations.  In  the  hope,  therefore, 
of  awakening  serious  thought  upon  the  matter,  he 
unmistakably  called  upon  the  reader  to  sympathize 
with  Diana  Warwick  despite  her  erratic  career,  to 
admit  the  injustice  of  the  world  in  its  attitude  toward 
Nataly  and  Nesta  Radnor,  to  feel  that  the  elopement 
of  Weyburn  and  Lady  Aminta  was  justifiable,  and 
to  see  that  a  renewal  of  the  union  between  the  Earl 
of  Fleetwood  and  his  wife  was  impossible.  From 
this,  it  must  be  evident  to  one  who  looks  beneath 
the  surface,  that  as  the  earlier  novels  were  an  attack 
upon  a  sentimental  deference  to  various  long  unques- 
tioned ideals,  these  later  works  were  a  sturdy  assault 
upon  the  seemingly  impregnable  conventionality 
which  looks  upon  the  marriage  bond  as  indissoluble. 

"Diana  of  the  Crossways,"  the  earliest  of  these 
somewhat  daring  novels,  made  its  first  appearance 
as  a  story  of  twenty-six  chapters  in  The  Fortnightly 


1.52  THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Review,  where  it  ran  from  June  to  December,  1S84. 
As  there  pubHshed,  it  carried  the  fortunes  of  the 
heroine  up  to  the  point,  where  the  opportune  arrival 
of  Lady  Dunstane  at  the  bedside  of  her  friend 
saved  Diana  from  death.  The  narration  then  closed, 
rather  abruptly  perhaps,  with  a  note  to  the  effect 
that  those  w4io  cared  for  more  of  the  erratic  woman 
would  find  it  in  the  extended  chronicle.  The  mean- 
ing of  this  statement  was  made  clear  early  in  the 
following  year  when,  by  the  insertion  of  numerous 
paragraphs,  by  a  renumbering  of  chapters,  and  by 
the  addition  of  seventeen  more  carrying  on  Diana's 
story  to  her  marriage  with  Redworth,  the  "  extended 
chronicle"  was  printed  as  a  three-volume  novel. 
The  book  became  immediately  successful,  and  the 
demand  for  it  was  so  great  that  three  editions  were 
exhausted  before  the  year  was  out.  This  popu- 
larity, furthermore,  awakened  a  widened  interest 
in  the  author's  earlier  writings  and  led  Mere- 
dith to  sanction  the  publication  of  a  collected 
edition  of  all  his  prose  work.  Nor  did  the  liking 
for  Diana's  story  prove  ephemeral.  After  success- 
fully weathering  an  unusually  sharp  and  witty  bur- 
lesque in  Punch  where,  in  the  issue  for  October  18, 
1890,  INIr.  Rudolph  Lehman  published  a  skit  under 
the  heading,  "'Joanna  of  the  Cross  Ways,'  by 
George  Verimyth,  author  of  'Richard's  Several  Edi- 
tions,' 'The  Aphorist,'  'Shampoo's  Shaving  Pot,' 
etc.,  etc.,"  the  book  continued  to  be  in  steady  de- 
mand; and  from  all  present  appearance,  it  bids  fair 
to  be  widely  read  even  by  the  third  and  fourth 
generations. 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  153 

The  story,  it  is  true,  moves  with  a  certain  swing  and 
dash,  which  in  part  explains  its  perennial  popularity, 
but  the  marked  interest  with  which  its  first  appear- 
ance was  greeted,  was  due,  no  doubt,  to  the  belief  that 
in  Diana  Warwick  was  portrayed  the  famous  and  pop- 
ular Mrs.  Caroline  Norton.  Both  were  Irish  women 
of  remarkable  beauty,  Diana  a  daughter  of  old 
Dan  Merion,  a  wit  of  no  little  reputation;  Mrs. 
Norton  a  granddaughter  of  Richard  Brinsley  Sheri- 
dan, the  dramatist.  Each  married  after  an  acquaint- 
ance altogether  too  brief,  and  almost  from  the  be- 
ginning suffered  from  the  husband's  unfounded 
jealousy.  Each  after  a  time  was  made  the  subject 
of  a  ridiculous  divorce  suit,  Augustus  Warwick 
claiming  that  he  had  been  injured  by  Lord  Dannis- 
burgh,  the  Honorable  George  Norton  that  he  had 
suffered  at  the  hands  of  Lord  Melbourne.  More- 
over, each  of  the  women  wrote  novels  which  were 
well  received  by  the  public;  and  finally  Mrs.  Norton 
for  a  time  was  under  the  unjust  suspicion  of  hav- 
ing betrayed  the  confidence  of  a  cabinet  minister, 
just  as  Mrs.  Warwick  in  the  story  imparted  Percy 
Dacier's  secret  to  Marcus  Tonans.  In  passing, 
it  is  of  interest  to  learn  that  the  publication  of 
"Diana  of  the  Crossways"  revived  the  almost  for- 
gotten scandal  about  the  Honorable  Mrs.  Norton, 
and  led  to  an  investigation  which  wholly  exonerated 
the  lady  from  blame.  In  consequence  of  this  in- 
quiry, recent  editions  of  the  book  bear  an  introduc- 
tory note  written  in  Meredith's  characteristic  style: 

"A  lady  of  high  distinction  for  wit  and  beauty,  the 
daughter  of  an  illustrious  Irish  house,  came  under 


154     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

the  shadow  of  calumny.  It  has  latterly  been  ex- 
amined and  exposed  as  baseless.  The  story  of 
'Diana  of  the  Crossways'  is  to  be  read  as  fiction." 
The  discovery  that  Diana  Warwick  had  a  possible 
prototype  in  life  was  one  of  no  very  great  diffi- 
culty, since  Mrs.  Norton — or  rather,  Lady  Sterling- 
Maxwell,  as  by  a  second  marriage  she  became — 
was  well  known  and  popular  in  England,  almost 
from  the  time  of  her  entrance  into  society  until  the 
day  of  her  death  in  1877.  But  twenty  years  after 
the  publication  of  "Diana  of  the  Crossways,"  an 
anonymous  WTiter  in  Scribner's  Magazine,  for  Feb- 
ruary, 1905,  pointed  out  that  a  parallel  no  less  inter- 
esting than  that  existing  between  Diana  Warwick 
and  j\Irs.  Norton,  might  be  drawn  between  the  same 
heroine  and  the  French  writer  who  called  herself 
George  Sand.  Both  were  noted  for  their  wit,  as  might 
be  expected  indeed  since  one  was  of  Gaelic  the  other 
of  Gallic  blood.  Each  became  united  early  in  life 
to  an  uncongenial  husband  whose  nature  led  the  wife 
in  either  case  to  seek  happiness  in  separation.  Both 
became  interested  in  the  political  matters  of  their 
respective  countries,  and  both  turned  their  hands 
to  the  writing  of  novels,  for  which  they  drew  abun- 
dant material  from  their  own  experiences  and  from 
those  of  men  and  women  surrounding  them.  Both 
were  harassed  by  money  cares,  and  were  driven  to 
extraordinary  methods  to  escape  them.  Both  were 
beset  by  lovers  and  found  consolation  in  male  friend- 
ship; and  finally  each  emerged  from  her  many  di- 
verse perplexities  into  a  state  of  peace,  Diana  be- 
coming united  with  the  patient  and  loyal  Redworth, 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  155 

and  Madame  Dudevant  entering  upon  a  well-earned 
tranquil  existence  at  the  close  of  her  almost  heroic 
struggles  to  reconcile  passion  and  reason.  One 
learns,  also,  perhaps  not  without  some  surprise,  that 
Diana  Warwick's  French  prototype,  whom  Meredith 
probably  did  not  have  in  mind,  and  her  English  fore- 
runner, whom  he  certainly  did,  were  almost  exactly 
contemporary  in  their  lives;  for  they  were  born  within 
five  years  of  each  other,  and  hardly  a  twelve-month 
separated  the  days  of  their  death. 

With  the  shades  of  two  such  famous  women 
watching  over  her  creation,  Diana  Warwick  might 
well  be  expected  to  stand  by  herself  in  the  gallery 
of  Meredith's  art.  Yet  as  a  matter  of  fact  she  now 
and  then  betrays,  without  detriment  to  herself  or  to 
her  maker,  a  touch  or  even  a  trait  which  shows  her 
unmistakable  relationship  with  other  women  wrought 
by  the  same  hand.  Her  easy,  or  rather,  her  uncon- 
scious disregard  of  certain  minor  social  conventionali- 
ties, and  her  complete  fearlessness  or  forgetfulness 
of  possible  gossip  about  her  conduct,  both  recall 
Sandra  Belloni;  while  her  power  of  penetration  and 
her  firmness  of  character,  both  make  her  seem  at 
times  not  unlike  Cecilia  Halkett.  All  in  all,  how- 
ever, she  is  much  more  like  Clara  Middleton  than 
she  is  like  any  other  woman  whom  Meredith  has 
drawn:  that  is,  a  rapid  reading  of  "The  Egoist"  and 
of  "Diana  of  the  Crossways"  leaves  the  impression 
that  under  the  same  conditions  "the  dainty  rogue  in 
porcelain"  and  "old  Dan  Merion's  daughter" 
would  each  have  conducted  herself  in  no  wise  differ- 
ently from  the  other.     Still,  at  no  time  could  Diana 


loG     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Warwick  be  mistaken  for  any  of  the  several  other 
attractive  women  appearing  in  Meredith's  novels, 
as,  for  instance,  Janet  Ilchester  and  Cecilia  Halkett, 
distantly  viewed  in  memory  might  sometimes  be. 
They,  and  many  others  with  them,  have  the  reader's 
admiration  and  respect;  but  Diana  has  more,  she 
has  his  pity  and  his  love.  Despite  the  trial  to  which 
her  erratic  conduct  puts  one's  patience,  despite  her 
woeful  lack  of  wisdom  when  one  would  expect  it  to 
be  most  abundant,  despite  her  audacious  irresponsi- 
bility, her  bewildering  inconsistency,  her  incalculable 
impulsiveness,  one  does  not  hesitate  to  be  enrolled 
beneath  Tom  Redworth's  banner,  and  to  follow  the 
lady  with  that  leader's  perfect  confidence  and  trust. 
The  story  in  which  the  fortunes  of  this  beautiful 
and  attractive  heroine  were  narrated,  starts  the  read- 
er's mind  now  and  then  upon  lines  of  thought  lead- 
ing to  sources  from  which  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously Meredith  might  have  received  some  minor 
suggestions.  In  the  first  place,  although  "  Diana  of 
the  Crossways"  is  hardly  a  political  novel  in  the 
same  sense  that  "Beauchamp's  Career"  is,  it  certainly 
produces  so  nearly  the  effect  of  Trollope's  "Parlia- 
mentary Series  "  as  to  make  one  feel  that  Lady  Glen- 
cora  and  Mrs.  Max  Goesler  and  John  Grey  are  just 
on  the  point  of  making  their  appearance  and  enter- 
ing into  conversation  with  Diana  and  Redworth. 
Perhaps,  too,  this  illusion  is  strengthened  somewhat 
by  the  realization  on  the  reader's  part  that  Diana's 
separation  from  Augustus  Warwick,  and  his  sub- 
sequent threat  to  take  legal  measures  for  the  restora- 
tion of  marital  rights,  are  almost  exactly  a  repetition 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  157 

of  Laura  Kennedy's  experiences  with  her  husband 
as  related  in  "Phineas  Redux."  iVgain,  Warwick's 
accusations  against  Lord  Dannisburgh  in  addition  to 
being  those  of  the  Honorable  George  Norton  against 
Lord  Melbourne,  were  likewise  those  which  rumor, 
nearly  fifty  years  ago,  said  were  to  be  made  against 
Lord  Palmerston,  and  which  Meredith,  it  should  not 
be  forgotten,  saw  fit  to  comment  upon  in  his  news- 
paper days. 

Furthermore,  here,  as  elsewhere,  Meredith  seemed 
to  draw  from  his  own  earlier  works.  Diana's  love  for 
"  antiques, "  to  which  she  ascribed  her  liking  for  Lord 
Dannisburgh,  is,  as  a  phrase,  traceable  to  Lady 
Camper's  stinging  comment  upon  the  amorous  Gen- 
eral Ople's  endeavor  to  be  chivalrous,  even  after  he 
had  her  word  that  she  was  seventy  years  old. 
Arthur  Rhodes,  in  his  devotion  to  Diana,  is  Braintop 
reproduced  with  certain  improvements  from  "San- 
dra Belloni";  Lord  Dannisburgh  is  the  Duke  of  Bel- 
field  from  "  Evan  Harrington,"  but  so  much  nobler  in 
character,  despite  his  many  failings,  as  to  be  not  un- 
worthy of  a  place  near  the  elder  Duke  of  Omnium 
in  Trollope's  "Can  We  Forgive  Her"  and  "Phineas 
Phinn."  Lady  Dacier  in  her  sanctimonious  su- 
periority might  have  been  studied  from  Mrs.  Grandi- 
son  in  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel";  and  Mrs. 
Wathin  is  a  gossip  possibly  sketched,  though  some- 
what coarsely  perhaps,  from  the  same  model  which 
furnished  the  delicate  drawings  of  Lady  Busshe 
and  Lady  Culmer  in  "The  Egoist."  On  the  whole, 
however,  all  these  similarities  arc  so  remote  as  to 
be  little  more  than  fanciful;  and  do  not  in  any  way 


158     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

prevent  "Diana  of  the  Crossways"  from  being  re- 
garded as  one  of  Meredith's  most  original  and  most 
important  contributions  to  literature. 

For  a  time  after  the  publication  of  Diana's  story, 
Meredith's  career  as  a  novelist  seemed  to  be  at  an 
end.  If  by  chance  he  was  mentioned  at  all,  his  critic 
usually  spoke  of  him  as  being  an  unsuccessful  com- 
petitor with  Dickens  and  Thackeray  rather  than  as 
a  living  author.  Nevertheless,  Meredith  was  by 
no  means  keeping  silence.  Occasional  contributions 
in  prose  and  verse  were  printed  in  The  Fortnightly 
Review,  The  Pall  Mall  Gazette,  and  elsewhere;  and 
two  important  volumes  of  poetry  were  published 
in  successive  years,  "Ballads  and  Poems  of  Tragic 
Life,"  in  1887,  and  "A  Reading  of  Earth,"  in  1888. 
The  latter  book  was  closely  related  in  contents  with 
"Poems  and  Lyrics  of  the  Joy  of  Earth"  which 
had  appeared  five  years  before;  that  is,  two  years  in 
advance  of  "Diana  of  the  Crossways";  while  the 
earlier  volume  had  considerable  in  common  with  the 
partly  suppressed  collection  of  1862,  "Modern  Love 
and  Poems  of  the  English  Roadside  with  Poems 
and  Ballads."  Even  a  somewhat  cursory  reading 
of  Meredith's  books  of  verse  beginning  with  the 
"Poems"  of  1851,  and  passing  on  through  the 
four  volumes  just  mentioned  to  the  three  succeed- 
ing collections,  "The  Empty  Purse,"  pubhshed 
in  1892;  "Odes  in  Contribution  to  the  Song  of 
French  History,"  in  1898,  and  "A  Reading  of  Life," 
in  1901;  will  show  that  he  was  developing  a  phil- 
osophy and  pointing  out  a  unity  between  Man  and 
Nature  such    as    had   not    been  preached  by  any 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  159 

earlier  English  poet — a  philosophy  and  a  unity,  in- 
deed, which,  as  early  as  1883,  Meredith  himself 
summed  up  in  a  single  sonnet : 

earth's  secret 

Not  solitarily  in  fields  we  find 

Earth's  secret  open,  though  one  page  is  there; 

Her  plainest,  such  as  children  spell,  and  share 

With  bird  and  beast;  raised  letters  for  the  blind. 

Not  where  the  troubled  passions  toss  the  mind, 

In  turbid  cities,  can  the  key  be  bare. 

It  hangs  for  those  who  hither  thither  fare, 

Close  interthreading  Nature  with  our  kind. 

They,  hearing  History  speak,  of  what  men  were, 

And  have  become,  are  wise.    The  gain  is  great 

In  vision  and  solidity;  it  lives. 

Yet  at  a  thought  of  life  apart  from  her, 

Solidity  and  vision  lose  their  state. 

For  earth,  that  gives  the  milk,  the  spirit  gives. 

Certain  phases  of  this  philosophy — of  this  need 
for  man  to  learn  from  Nature  whether  she  appear  in 
field  or  wood  or  in  the  thickly  populated  city — may 
be  found  in  every  one  of  Meredith's  novels.  But  it 
is  safe  to  say  that  in  "One  of  Our  Conquerors" — 
the  novel  to  which  Meredith  unexpectedly  treated 
his  readers  in  1891 — there  is  a  stricter  adherence 
than  in  any  of  his  other  prose  works,  to  the  terms 
which  he  systematically  employed  in  the  poems  bear- 
ing the  burden  of  his  message.  Earth  and  Nature, 
for  instance,  are  used  almost  interchangeably;  and 
either  or  both  may  be  referred  to  as  the  Great 
Mother  in  the  sense  that  from  her  all  things  spring. 
On  the  other  hand.  Society,  together  with  the  laws 
and  the  conventionalities  which  Society  has  dictated, 


160     THE  NO\TLS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

is  given  the  designation  of  Circumstance.  Now, 
according  to  ^Meredith,  these  two  forces,  to  one  of 
which  Man  owes  his  origin,  and  by  the  other  of 
which,  when  it  acts  alone,  he  is  more  often  delayed 
than  assisted  in  his  advancement  towards  fullest 
development,  are  not  always  mutually  helpful. 
Between  them,  rather,  Man  is  carrying  on  an  "  epic 
encounter."  Nor  seldom  is  he  in  a  quandary.  Often 
he  is  compelled  to  pause  and  ask  himself.  Is  Man  in 
fact  harmonious  with  the  Great  INIother  when  he 
yields  to  the  pressure  of  his  nature — that  is,  to  his 
impulsive  human  nature  ?  To  this  question  his  rea- 
son can  give  but  one  answer.  No!  "Man  may  be 
rebellious  against  his  time  and  his  Laws,  but  if  he  is 
really  for  Nature,  he  is  not  lawless."  Where,  then, 
he  may  justly  inquire,  is  to  be  sought  the  power,  the 
wisdom  which  shall  dictate  the  laws  transcending 
those  formulated  by  Society?  It  is  found  resident, 
reason  again  replies,  in  the  Intellect,  that  attribute  of 
Man  which  distinguishes  him  from  the  brute,  and 
which  by  its  development  has  filled  the  Great  Mother 
with  joy.  Not  yet,  however,  is  she  sure  that  Man 
is  to  be  her  cro^\Tiing  work.  The  heart,  that  is  the 
beast  within,  would  ravin  hourly  if  it  could,  nor  is 
the  Intellect  at  all  times  the  conqueror.  The  head 
may  yet  be  the  victim;  the  heart  may  yet  gather 
force  again  to  be 

"The  lion  of  our  deserts'  trodden  weeds; 


Again  to  be  the  lordly  paw 
Naming  his  appetites  his  needs 
Behind  a  decorative  cloak." 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  161 

In  this  struggle  between  the  heart  and  the  head  for 
supremacy,  Circumstance,  the  collective  term  by 
which  Meredith  names  the  methods  agreed  upon 
by  man  as  being  those  best  suited  for  his  life  with 
his  fellows,  is  far  less  helpful  to  the  head,  and  gives 
far  more  assistance  to  the  heart  than  should  be  ex- 
pected. Man,  however,  is  not  himself  unaware  of 
the  conflict,  and  he  even  feels  called  upon  now  and 
then  to  make  his  excuse  to  the  Great  Mother.  As 
Meredith  puts  it  at  the  beginning  of  the  ninteenth 
chapter  of  "One  of  Our  Conquerors": 

"There  is  at  times  in  the  hearts  of  all  men  of  active 
life  a  vivid  wild  moment  or  two  of  dramatic  dialogue 
between  the  veteran  antagonists.  Nature  and  Cir- 
cumstance, where  they,  whose  business  it  should  be 
to  be  joyfully  one,  furiously  split;  and  the  Dame  is 
up  with  her  shrillest  querulousness  to  inquire  of  her 
offspring  for  the  distinct  original  motive  of  his  con- 
duct. ...  If  he  be  not  an  alienated  issue  of  the 
Great  Mother,  he  will  strongly  incline  to  her  view, 
that  he  put  himself  into  harness  with  a  machine 
going  the  dead  contrary  way  of  her  welfare  and  there- 
by wrote  himself  a  donkey  for  his  present  reading. 
.  .  .  But  it  is  asked  by  the  disputant.  If  we  had  fol- 
lowed her  exclusively,  how  far  should  we  have 
travelled  from  our  starting  point  ?  We  of  the  world 
and  its  prizes  and  duties  must  do  her  an  injury  to 
make  her  tongue  musical  to  us,  and  her  argument 
worthy  of  our  attention!" 

Society  or  Circumstance,  Meredith,  of  course, 
would  not  look  upon  as  being  always  reprehensible; 
but  when,  by  misdirection  or  perversion,  it  stands 


1C2     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

in  the  way  of  Man's  advancement,  it  could  not  to 
his  mind  be  too  severely  condemned.  It  is  this 
thought  which  spurred  him  to  make  in  his  many 
novels  repeated  attacks  upon  the  widespread  and 
unquestioning  acceptance  of  traditions  and  estab- 
lished customs.  In  "One  of  Our  Conquerors" 
this  war  upon  sentimentalism,  as  he  called  it,  was 
especially  directed  against  the  shallowness  of  re- 
ligion as  commonly  received,  and  against  the  denial 
to  woman  of  her  proper  place  in  the  present  scheme 
of  things.  Meredith,  it  is  true,  did  not  in  his 
work  make  any  direct  and  sustained  assault  upon  the 
church;  but  he  did  take  evident  delight  in  heaping 
ridicule  upon  the  clergymen  of  his  novels,  nearly  all 
of  whom  were  guilty  of  an  elephantine  belief  in  their 
own  superiority.  The  colorless  curate  of  Lobourne 
in  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  and  the  Rev- 
erend Mr.  Marter  in  "Sandra  Belloni"  are  of  course 
hardly  more  than  lay  figures;  but  the  Honorable 
and  Reverend  Herbert  Duffian  in  "Evan  Harring- 
ton" and  the  Reverend  Dr.  Middleton  in  "The 
Egoist,"  unlike  as  they  are  in  many  respects,  might 
very  easily  be  regarded  as  representatives  of  that 
type  of  minister  whose  choice  of  profession  is  due, 
not  to  the  winsome  attractiveness  of  the  Nazarene, 
but  rather  to  mere  accident  or  to  thoughtless  follow- 
ing of  the  line  of  least  resistance. 

Not  far  removed  from  these  two  men  although 
much  more  ponderous  in  every  way  is  the  Reverend 
Septimus  Barmby.  Appearing  early  in  "  One  of  Our 
Conquerors,"  he  became  almost  omnipresent,  for  even 
in  his  absence  the  stentorian  booming  of  his  voice, 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  163 

like"  the  rolling  roar  of  curfew, "  seemed  to  be  in  con- 
stant reverberation.  Devoted  to  the  spirit  of  things 
that  are,  he  could  not  interpret  the  fundamental 
ideas  of  Christianity  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  them 
a  help  in  solving  the  most  important  problems  of 
modern  society.  Regarding  himself  in  his  office  far 
too  seriously,  he  directed  his  eye  towards  old  insti- 
tutions and  was  blind  to  the  changes  taking  place 
about  him.  He  failed  to  see  that  education  is  be- 
coming less  and  less  the  mission  of  the  Church,  and 
thus  he  remained  a  member  of  that  class  whom 
Meredith  had  in  mind  when  in  a  recent  interview 
he  said: 

"  I  hope  that  ultimately  we  shall  take  teaching  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  clergy  and  that  we  shall  be  able 
to  instruct  the  clergy  in  the  fact  that  Christianity 
is  a  spiritual  religion  and  not  one  that  is  to  be  gov- 
erned by  material  conditions.  A  spiritual  God  I 
most  perfectly  believe  in.  I  have  that  belief  constant- 
ly before  me — I  feel  it  within  me;  but  a  material 
God  that  interferes  in  material,  moral  affairs  I  have 
never  seen ;  and  it  is,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  for  the  mate- 
rial God  that  the  clergy  seem  to  be  striving." 

Of  far  greater  importance  than  Meredith's  ar- 
raignment of  the  clergy  and  their  calling,  was  his 
criticism  of  the  place  which  Society  has  accorded 
to  women.  Of  course  Skepsey's  belief  that  girls 
have  but  one  mission  on  earth  and  should  therefore 
be  healthy  for  the  sake  of  it,  may  be  dismissed  with 
a  smile.  Few  men  nowadays  are  willing  to  con- 
fess that  they  hold  to  the  idea,  although  silence  by 
no  means  necessarily  proves  the  absence  of  belief. 


1G4     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Colney  Durance  undoubtedly  overstated  the  truth 
when  he  declared  that  woman,  because  of  her  edu- 
cation, is  unfitted  to  speak  an  opinion  on  any  matter 
external  to  the  household ;  but  he  made  Nataly  Rad- 
nor see  plainly  that  society  "  gives  an  exotic  fostering 
to  the  senses  of  women  instead  of  the  strengthening 
breath  of  vital  air,  and  that,  as  a  result,  the  model 
women  of  men  make  pleasant  slaves,  not  true  mates." 
So  true  is  this  in  general,  so  thoroughly  is  woman 
the  slave  of  existing  conventions,  so  surely  is  she  the 
artificial  production  of  a  state  that  exalts  her  while 
she  sacrifices  daily  and  hourly  to  the  artificial,  that 
Victor  Radnor's  opinions  may  be  regarded  as  being 
those  of  "  the  entrenched  majority."  \Miat  would  be 
the  result,  he  asked  himself,  if  men  could  "  deorient- 
alize  their  gleeful  notion  of  women  and  dis-Turk 
themselves  by  inviting  woman's  voluble  tongue  to 
sisterly  occupation  in  the  world,  as  in  the  domestic 
circle  ?  "  In  reply  he  had  the  old  argument,  itself  a 
series  of  questions,  "  Is  she  moral  ?  Does  she  mean 
to  be  harmless  ?  Is  she  not  untamable  Old  Nature  ? 
Would  she  not,  when  once  on  an  equal  footing  with 
her  lordly  half,  show  herself  that  wanton  old  thing, 
the  empress  of  disorderliness  ?  "  Thus  rendered  ap- 
prehensive, Radnor  allied  himself  w^ith  the  average 
man,  "objecting  to  the  occult  power  of  women,  as 
we  have  the  women  now  while  legislating  to  main- 
tain them  so,  and  forbidding  a  step  to  a  desperately 
wicked  female  world  lest  the  step  should  be  to 
wickeder."  Radnor's  opinions  of  course  were  far 
from  being  Meredith's  own.  By  his  very  method  of 
presenting  them,  he  made  it  evident  that  he  looked 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  165 

upon  them  with  contempt,  and  that  he  was  freely  of- 
fering himself  as  the  voluntary  champion  of  woman- 
kind. That  he  found  himself  at  the  head  of  no 
numerous  host  was  due  perhaps  to  the  fact  that  an 
enthroned  Society  by  its  advocacy  of  existing  laws 
and  rules  and  habits  had  produced  in  woman  "those 
timidities,  at  present  urging  her  to  support  Estab- 
lishments." 

The  vehicle  by  which  Meredith  conveyed  to  his 
readers  these  radically  destructive  criticisms  of  long 
accepted  ideas,  was  a  story  not  unlikely  in  itself  to 
shock  the  British  public.  In  early  manhood  a 
certain  Mr.  Victor  Radnor  married  a  wealthy 
woman,  several  years  his  senior.  Tiring  of  her,  he 
became  interested  in  a  Miss  Nataly  Dreighton,  to 
whose  attractive  qualities  his  wife  was  constantly 
calling  his  attention.  After  a  struggle  to  remain 
true  to  his  marriage  vows,  he  deserted  Mrs.  Bur- 
man  Radnor  in  the  company  of  her  young  friend, 
and  entered  into  a  union  which  both  he  and  Miss 
Dreighton  looked  upon  as  sacred.  The  novel  opens 
at  a  time  when  their  daughter  was  entering  upon 
womanhood  and  is  concerned  with  the  treatment 
which  society  meted  out  to  her  and  her  parents. 
Thus  baldly  told,  the  story  could  not  be  objected 
to  on  the  ground  that  the  situations  were  impossible 
or  that  they  were  not  at  least  occasionally  ac- 
quiesced in  by  modern  society.  The  immorality 
of  which  the  book  was  accused  lay,  it  was  ad- 
mitted, not  so  much  in  the  plot  as  in  the  teach- 
ings. Two  persons  had  violated  the  laws  of  the 
Established  Church,  yet  the  reader  was   expected 


16G    THE  NOVELS   OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

to  approve  of  their  conduct.  Their  daughter,  al- 
beit innocent,  was  none  the  less  illegitimate,  yet 
Meredith  was  willing  to  lift  a  free-lance  in  her  de- 
fence. This  certainly  was  carrying  things  with  a 
pretty  high  hand.  "Why,  the  very  foundations  of 
society  are  being  attacked!"  cried  the  horrified 
critic.  "Pray,  what  would  Mr.  INIeredith  have? 
Does  he  not  realize  that  these  ideas  are  subversive 
of  Church  and  State — nay,  that  they  are  even  more 
— say  anarchical  in  the  extreme?"  Now,  it  is  not 
at  all  unlikely  that  INIeredith  knew  what  he  was 
about.  A  close  observer  of  society,  he  detected 
more  than  one  spot  of  weakness;  and  thereupon, 
with  unflinching  hand,  he  pointed  out  the  source  of 
trouble  and  suggested  what  to  his  mind  would  work 
a  cure.  He  could  not  agree  with  one  of  his  charac- 
ters who  freely  admitted  the  errors  of  society,  but 
felt  that  "the  assertion  of  our  individuality  in  op- 
position to  the  Government  of  Society — this  ex- 
isting Society — is  a  toss  of  the  cap  for  the  erasure  of 
our  civilization,"  rather  he  held  with  that  other  who 
"flung  the  gauntlet  at  externally  venerable  Institu- 
tions and  treated  Society  as  a  discrowned  monarch 
on  trial  for  an  offence  against  a  more  precious:  viz., 
the  individual  cramped  by  brutish  laws:  the  individ- 
ual with  the  ideas  of  our  times,  righteously  claiming 
expansion  out  of  the  clutches  of  a  narrow  old-world 
disciplinarian — that  giant  hypocrite." 

If  the  teachings  and  the  plot  of  "  One  of  Our  Con- 
querors" had  not  stood  in  the  way  of  its  popularity, 
its  style  alone  would  probably  have  kept  it  as  little 
known   as   it   is.     Meredith   has   always   been    ac- 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  167 

cused,  and  perhaps  not  unjustly,  of  being  a  maker  of 
phrases.  By  this  is  not  meant  here,  his  power  of 
epigrammatic  utterance,  a  power  which  John  Mor- 
ley  praised  with  no  uncertain  tone  in  an  address  on 
"Aphorisms,"  but  rather  his  tendency  to  treat 
language  as  material  which  lends  itself  to  any  shap- 
ing. This  characteristic  of  his  style  is  in  almost 
direct  opposition  to  clearness,  which  has  come  to 
be  looked  upon  as  the  chief  desideratum  of  the 
essayist  and  the  novelist.  Meredith,  however, 
seemed  often  to  prefer  the  involved  to  the  simple, 
the  ornate  to  the  plain;  and  in  "One  of  Our 
Conquerors"  the  tendency  certainly  became  an 
obsession.  The  reader  is  not  told  in  so  many 
words  that  Radnor  kissed  his  wife,  but  that  "he 
performed  his  never-omitted  lover's  homage,"  Mr. 
Fenellan  did  not  drink  the  Old  Veuve,  but  "  crushed 
a  delicious  gulp  of  the  wine  that  foamed  along  the 
channel  of  flavor";  Skepsey  instead  of  feeling  the 
size  and  hardness  of  the  butcher's  arm,  "performed 
the  national  homage  to  muscle";  and  in  giving  a 
cordial  greeting  to  Lady  Grace,  "Victor's  festival- 
lights  were  kindled,  beholding  her;  cressets  on  the 
window-sill,  lamps  inside."  Such  writing,  it  cannot 
be  denied,  is  both  bewildering  and  exasperating  to 
almost  every  reader;  and  Meredith,  therefore,  had 
no  just  cause  of  complaint  if  his  own  joy  in  weav- 
ing such  fantastic  garments  for  his  thought  was  his 
chief  reward.  Certainly  after  the  publication  of 
"  One  of  Our  Conquerors,"  many  of  his  old  readers 
fell  away  or  at  most  contented  themselves  with 
memories  of  what  he  had  written  before,  while  the 


168     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

younger  generation  who,  like  Sarah  Battle,  occa- 
sionally found  time  to  turn  aside  from  whist-playing 
and  to  unbend  the  mind  over  a  book,  took  no  special 
pleasure  in  anything  which  Meredith  had  to  say. 

Radically  different  as  "One  of  Our  Conquerors" 
was  from  Meredith's  earlier  novels  in  its  strongly 
didactic  tone,  its  plot,  and  its  strangely  involved 
style,  the  book  struck  its  roots  deep  into  all  that  its 
author  had  published  before  it.  Egoism  and  senti- 
mentalism  were  still  made  objects  of  attack;  Colney 
Durance  was  a  maker  of  phrases,  as  were  ]\lrs. 
Mountstuart  in  "The  Egoist,"  and  Adrian  Harley  in 
"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel";  the  Duvidney 
sisters  in  their  W'Orship  of  their  cousin  Victor  Rad- 
nor were  like  the  Patterne  ladies  in  their  blind  adora- 
tion of  the  egoistical  Sir  Willoughby,  while  in  their 
prim  regard  for  the  proprieties,  they  showed  them- 
selves to  be  what  the  unmarried  Pole  sisters  must 
in  their  old  age  have  become.  Mrs.  ]Marsett  is  un- 
deniably like  jNIrs.  jNIount,  although,  happily,  Nesta 
Radnor's  endeavor  to  save  the  woman  from  herself 
was  much  more  successful  than  was  Richard  Fev- 
erel's  attempt  to  reclaim  the  woman  who  had  been 
hired  to  entice  him  away  from  his  wife.  Again,  the 
several  references  in  Chapter  Five  to  the  Rajah's 
visit  to  London  recall  more  than  one  passage  in 
"The  Shaving  of  Shagpat,"  while  the  street  brawl 
has  not  a  little  in  common  with  the  tent  scene  in 
"Sandra  Belloni."  Even  more  striking  than  this  is 
a  remarkable  similarity  between  a  passage  in  the 
novel  and  the  first  poem  of  "Modern  Love." 
Although  Xataly  Radnor  could  not  approve  of  her 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  169 

husband's  scheme  for  the  great  assembly  at  Lake- 
lands, she  would  not  in  any  way  undertake  to  thwart  or 
disappoint  him.     Stifling  her  own  feelings,  therefore, 

"She  could  have  turned  to  him,  to  show  him  she 
was  in  harmony  with  the  holy  night  and  loving 
world  but  for  the  fear  founded  upon  a  knowledge  of 
the  man  he  was;  it  held  her  frozen  to  the  semblance 
of  a  tombstone  lady  beside  her  lord  in  the  aisle  where 
honor  kindles  pitchy  blackness  with  its  legions  at 
one  movement.  Verily  it  was  the  ghost  of  Mrs. 
Burman  come  to  the  bed,  between  them." 

Nearly  thirty  years  before,  Meredith  had  written 
of  a  husband  and  wife  between  whom  the  spirit  of 
jealousy  had  risen;  and  at  that  time  he  used  almost 
exactly  the  same  thought  and  phraseology: 

"By  this  he  knew  she  wept  with  waking  eyes: 
That  at  his  hand's  light  quiver  by  her  head. 
The  strange  low  sobs  that  shook  their  common  bed, 
Were  called  into  her  with  a  sharp  surprise, 
And  strangled  mute,  like  little  gaping  snakes, 
Deadly  venomous  to  him.     She  lay 
Stone-still,  and  the  long  darkness  flowed  away 
With  muffled  pauses.     Then,  as  midnight  makes 
Her  giant  heart  of  Memory  and  Tears 
Drink  the  pale  drug  of  silence,  and  so  beat 
Sleep's  heavy  measure,  they  from  head  to  feet 
Were  moveless,  looking  through  their  dead  black  years, 
By  vain  regret  scrawled  over  the  blank  wall. 
Like  sculptured  effigies  they  might  be  seen 
Upon  their  marriage  tomb,  the  sword  between; 
Each  wishing  for  the  sword  that  severs  all." 

It  is,  furthermore,  of  some  interest  to  discover  that 
a  strong  tendency  to  use  the  methods  of  Dickens  re- 


170     THE  NOVELS  OP^  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

appeared  after  many  years  in  this  later  novel.  Skep- 
sey,  the  pugilist,  and  INIartha  Pridden,  the  evangelist, 
are  quite  in  Dickens's  style,  and  their  union  is  just 
what  the  elder  novelist  would  have  brought  about. 
The  Reverend  Septimus  Barmby  and  the  Rever- 
end Groseman  Buttermore  must  have  been  fellow- 
workers  with  the  Reverend  ]Mr.  Chadband,  although, 
despite  their  heavy  self-respect,  they  are  much  more 
delicately  drawn.  The  statement  that  "Mrs.  John 
Cormyn  entered  voluminous,  and  ]\Irs.  Peter  Yatt 
effervescent"  shows  the  influence  of  Dickens's  well- 
known  custom  of  reducing  character  or  appearance 
to  a  single  trait  without  loss  of  illusion;  and  evidently 
the  whole  chapter  describing  the  concert  at  Lake- 
lands, and  that  other  dealing  with  the  agony  which 
the  Duvidney  ladies  were  made  to  suffer  by  their  lap- 
dog's  disgraceful  behavior  are  in  the  manner  of  the 
master  of  English  caricature.  It  would  seem  from 
this  that  Meredith  in  his  later  novels  showed  at  least 
a  slight  tendency  to  return  upon  himself,  to  revert  to 
methods  employed  in  his  earliest  work.  Certainly, 
when  the  reader  is  told,  almost  as  the  last  word  in 
"The  Amazing  Marriage,"  that  Carinthia  Jane 
married  Owain  Wythan,  "because  of  his  wooing  her 
with  dog's  eyes  instead  of  words,"  he  must  feel, 
recalling  the  references  to  the  "old  dog's  eyes"  in 
Ripton  Thompson's  head,  that  Meredith  had  harked 
back  to  a  passage  in  his  first  novel. 

Although  "One  of  Our  Conquerors"  never  en- 
joyed any  great  popularity,  there  was  an  attempt 
at  the  time  of  its  publication  to  place  it  before  a 
larger  audience  than  had  been  reached  bv  any  of 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  171 

Meredith's  other  works  upon  their  first  appearance. 
To  this  end,  therefore,  beginning  in  October,  1890, 
and  running  well  on  into  the  following  year,  the 
novel  was  printed  simultaneously  in  The  Fortnightly 
Review  of  London,  The  Australasian  of  Melbourne, 
and  the  Sunday  issues  of  The  New  York  Sun.  Im- 
mediately upon  its  completion  as  the  leading  serial 
in  each  of  these  periodicals,  it  was  of  course  pub- 
lished in  book  form.  Even  before  that,  however, 
it  had  been  pretty  severely  dealt  with  by  the  critics, 
but  Meredith  was  not  to  be  provoked  to  any  attempt 
at  self-defence.  Nevertheless,  his  next  novel,  **  Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta"  seemed  to  betray  a  wil- 
lingness on  his  part  to  profit  from  the  words  of  those 
who  had  spoken  in  disparagement  of  the  earlier 
work,  for  if  the  style  of  "One  of  Our  Conquerors" 
may  be  described  as  ornate,  intricate,  and  obscure, 
surely  that  of  the  novel  which  succeeded  it  must  be 
looked  upon  as  simple  in  the  extreme.  Readers  of 
The  Pall  Mall  Magazine,  where  the  latter  story  ap- 
peared between  December,  1893,  and  July,  1894, 
were  especially  struck  by  this  remarkable  change  of 
method,  and  commented  somewdiat  forcibly  upon  the 
fact.  From  this,  two  opposite  effects  resulted :  on  one 
hand,  those  readers  who  felt  a  sort  of  sentimental 
superiority  through  a  professed  or  an  actual  liking 
of  Meredith's  earlier  style,  deplored  what  they  re- 
garded as  a  falling  off  in  his  powers;  on  the  other, 
many  who  had  never  been  able  to  read  Meredith 
at  all,  freely  admitted  their  pleasure  in  a  work  un- 
marred  by  what  they  had  been  accustomed  to  term 
a  tendency  towards  a  senseless  jugglery  with  words. 


172     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Thus,  on  the  whole,  "  Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta" 
rather  added  to  its  author's  fame  than  detracted 
from  it,  for  if  there  really  was  an  appreciable  lessen- 
ing in  the  number  of  old  admirers,  there  was  a  com- 
pensating accession  of  new  readers,  many  of  whom 
soon  had  their  eyes  opened  to  the  value  of  his  earlier 
and  more  important  works. 

But  whatever  influence  the  voice  of  the  critic  may 
be  assumed  to  have  had  upon  the  diction  of  "Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta,"  it  did  not  cause  Meredith 
to  suspect  the  validity  of  his  message,  nor  lead  him 
to  build  his  plot  in  accordance  with  commonly  ac- 
cepted ideas  of  morality.  He  was,  perhaps,  less 
formally  didactic  in  this  novel  than  in  the  one  pre- 
ceding it,  but  that  he  did  not  withdraw  from  his  posi- 
tion of  attack  upon  popular  opinions  about  the  mar- 
riage relation  was  made  clear  in  at  least  two  ways; 
he  evidently  approved  of  Aminta's  determination  to 
leave  Lord  Ormont  when  she  found  that  she  did  not 
love  him;  and  he  had  no  hesitation  in  picturing  her 
later  life  with  Weyburn  upon  the  Continent  as  one  of 
unalloyed  happiness.  She  had  idealized  Lord  Or- 
mont and  for  that  sentimentalism  she  was  subjected 
to  a  period  of  suffering.  After  a  time,  when  she  became 
better  acquainted  both  with  herself  and  her  husband, 
she  undertook  to  adjust  her  life  to  conventional 
theories  and  bear  w^ithout  complaint  the  yoke 
which  she  had  impulsively  taken  upon  herself. 
"VMiile  the  roseate  hues  were  thus  giving  place  to 
gray,  as  Meredith  puts  it  in  another  connection, 
Aminta  was  thrown  into  close  companionship 
with    her    husband's    private    secretary,    ^Matthew 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  173 

Weyburn,  who  happened  to  have  been  an  acquaint- 
ance of  her  school-girl  days.  Without  effort  on  the 
part  of  either  to  avoid  the  other,  since  neither  he 
nor  she  for  one  moment  contemplated  the  possibility 
of  a  change  in  their  relations,  the  two  for  many 
months  lived  side  by  side  as  friends.  Then,  in  one 
of  those  rare  moments  of  far-reaching  vision  which 
Meredith,  no  less  than  Browning,  insists  are  some- 
times given  to  mankind,  the  Lady  Aminta  and 
Matthew  Weyburn  saw  "the  difference  between 
men's  decrees  for  their  convenience,  and  God's 
laws."  From  then  on,  Meredith  managed  matters 
with  even  more  than  his  usual  skill,  so  much  so,  in- 
deed, that  the  reader,  when  he  lays  down  the  book, 
is  somewhat  shocked  to  realize  that  he  has  almost 
unconsciously  been  led  into  an  approval  of  what 
society  regards  as  an  immoral  situation. 

Closely  related,  or  even  almost  unified,  as  "One 
of  Our  Conquerors"  and  "Lord  Ormont  and  His 
Aminta"  are  seen  to  be  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  teaching  which  they  have  in  common,  they  afford 
an  unusually  systematic,  and  therefore  striking  con- 
trast in  details  of  plot-structure.  Victor  Radnor 
married  a  woman  much  his  senior.  Lord  Ormont  one 
many  years  his  junior;  Nataly  Dreighton  found  her- 
self excluded  from  society  because  her  union  with 
Radnor  was  illegal.  Lady  Aminta  was  not  given  the 
place  which  was  her  due,  despite  the  fact  that  she 
was  truly  the  wife  of  the  disappointed  military  hero; 
Radnor  endeavored  to  force  Nataly  to  a  place  which 
she  did  not  desire.  Lord  Ormont  refused  to  allow 
his  wife  to  take  a  position  where  she  wished  to  stand; 


174     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Mrs.  Burman  was  abandoned  by  her  young  husband, 
Lord  Ormont  by  his  young  wife.  Both  the  elder 
man  and  the  elder  woman  lived  many  years,  and 
thus  prevented  the  marriage  of  those  who  had  de- 
serted them ;  but  each  forgave  the  unhappiness  which 
had  been  inflicted,  and  in  dying  removed  the  obstacle 
which  interfered  with  the  legal  union  of  the  younger 
husband  and  the  younger  wife.  At  this  point,  how- 
ever, the  contrast  in  details  was  again  resumed. 
Hastening  home  w^ith  the  news  of  Mrs.  Burman 
Radnor's  death,  Victor  found  Nataly  dying,  and  in 
the  agony  of  his  grief  and  disappointment  gave  way 
to  a  mental  derangement  from  which  he  never  re- 
covered. Lord  Ormont,  on  the  other  hand,  six 
months  before  his  death  accidentally  encountered 
Matthew  Weyburn  in  Switzerland,  and,  although 
shocked  at  the  meeting  with  his  wife's  companion, 
gave  him  such  courtly  treatment  as  caused  Aminta, 
when  she  heard  of  it,  to  say,  "I  thank  heaven  we 
know  him  to  be  one  of  the  true  noble  men."  Be- 
yond this  the  reader  learns  little  but  that  Aminta 
became  a  widow.  Meredith  leaves  it  to  our  im- 
agination to  decide  whether  she  and  Weyburn  felt  the 
need  of  a  clergyman's  blessing,  or  whether  they 
regarded  the  approval  of  conscience  as  all-sufficient. 
Closely  related  by  similarity  of  teaching  and  by 
contrast  of  detail  as  "Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta" 
is  with  the  novel  which  immediately  preceded  it,  it 
is  not  less  strongly,  although  perhaps  less  systemati- 
cally, connected  with  still  other  works  by  jNIeredith. 
On  the  whole,  the  atmosphere  is  reminiscent  of 
"Diana    of    the    Crossways"    and    anticipatory   of 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  175 

"The  Amazing  Marriage,"  while  in  particular  Am- 
inta's  ride  to  Steignton  in  some  ways  recalls  the 
journey  of  the  Duchess  of  Dewlap  down  to  Bath  in 
"The  Tale  of  Chloe";  and  the  chapter  entitled  A 
Marine  Duet  carries  back  one's  thought  to  Richard 
and  Lucy  meeting  as  Ferdinand  and  Miranda  and  to 
Wilfred  and  Sandra  sitting  beside  Wilming  Weir. 
Again  the  school  life  at  Cuper's  is  strikingly  sugges- 
tive of  Harry  Richmond's  experience  at  Rippenger's; 
and  certainly  the  interest  taken  by  Weyburn  and 
Eglett  in  English  pugilism  brings  to  mind  Skepsey's 
main  source  of  pleasure  on  one  hand,  and  the  chief 
incident  of  the  Earl  of  Fleetwood's  rather  grim 
bridal  trip  on  the  other. 

In  the  matter  of  character  study,  too,  similar  con- 
nections may  be  pointed  out :  Lady  Charlotte  Eglett 
in  her  indifference  to  Aminta's  fate  is  like  Mrs.  Lov- 
ell  in  her  unsympathetic  attitude  toward  Dahlia 
Fleming;  Mrs.  Nargett  Pagnel  in  her  affected  pro- 
nunciation and  her  insistence  upon  an  assumed  ped- 
igree reminds  a  reader  of  the  Countess  de  Saldar; 
and  even  W^eyburn  in  his  position  as  secretary  to 
Lord  Ormont  recalls  Evan  Harrington  in  his  rela- 
tion to  the  Honorable  Melville  Jocelyn.  All  in  all, 
therefore,  despite  a  reduction  in  number  of  charac- 
ters, and  a  change  in  matter  of  diction,  "Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta"  does  not,  as  some  critics 
would  have  us  believe,  stand  apart  from  Meredith's 
other  novels.  A  little  reflection  shows  the  threads 
of  connection  between  it  and  them  to  be  many  and 
vital. 

Before  the  story  of  Lord  Ormont's  married  life 


176     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

was  reprinted  as  a  book  from  the  pages  of  The  Pall 
Mall  Magazine,  the  firm  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
announced  that  arrangements  had  been  made  with 
Mr.  Meredith  to  pubhsh,  as  the  leading  serial  of 
their  magazine  for  1895,  a  novel  which  he  called  "  The 
Amazing  Marriage."  The  title  suggested  that 
Meredith  was  still  interested  in  problems  presented 
by  relations  existing  between  man  and  wife;  and  when 
the  story  appeared,  its  readers  found  that  the  author 
was  studying  the  unhappy  marriage  from  a  new  point 
of  view.  It  did  not  involve  the  question  of  the  elderly 
husband  and  the  young  wife  as  presented  in  "Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta,"  or  of  the  young  husband 
and  the  elderly  wife  as  given  in  "One  of  Our  Con- 
querors " ;  neither,  as  in  both  these  novels,  were  matters 
complicated  by  the  introduction  of  a  union  obviously 
suitable  yet  defiantly  illegal.  Instead,  the  conditions 
assumed  were  not  much  unlike  those  in  "Diana  of 
the  Crossways."  As  there  was  no  discrepancy  in 
age  between  Dan  IMerion's  daughter  and  Augustus 
Warwick,  so  there  was  none  between  Carinthia 
Kirby  and  the  Earl  of  Fleetwood ;  but  there  was  such 
a  difference  of  taste  in  one  case,  and  of  taste  and  rank 
in  the  other,  as  to  bring  about  a  separation  of  husband 
and  wife.  Each  of  the  husbands  found  himself  at 
last  in  a  ridiculous  position,  with  nobody  but  himself 
to  blame.  Warwick  drove  Diana  from  him  by  foster- 
ing a  foolish  jealousy,  Fleetwood  deserted  Carinthia 
because  he  could  not  brook  her  birth  and  breed- 
ing. Each  of  the  men  in  time  had  his  eyes  opened 
to  his  error,  but  only  to  find  that  the  day  for 
repentance  had  gone   by.     When  they  would  wil- 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  177 

lingly  have  offered  devoted  allegiance  to  the  women 
whom  they  had  scorned,  they  found  themselves  un- 
able to  awaken  any  sympathetic  response. 

Thus,  in  the  main,  the  situations  in  the  two  novels 
are  parallel,  and  such  differences  as  are  to  be  sought, 
must  be  looked  for,  not  in  details  of  plot,  but  in  mat- 
ters of  character.  The  reader  sees  Augustus  War- 
wick almost  not  at  all,  but  thinks  of  him  as  a  force 
inferable  only  through  his  effect  upon  Diana,  where- 
as Lord  Fleetwood,  proud  and  erratic,  cruel  and 
selfish,  is  almost  never  absent  from  the  scene,  and 
stands  out  hardly  less  strongly  than  Sir  Willoughby 
Patterne  or  Nevil  Beauchamp  in  Meredith's  earlier 
novels.  A  much  more  striking  contrast  in  char- 
acter study,  however,  is  that  existing  between  the 
heroines  of  the  two  stories.  Diana  Warwick  is  al- 
ways hasty  and  impulsive,  the  Countess  of  Fleetwood 
is  never  other  than  calm  and  statuesque;  one  is  at  all 
times  nervously  a-quiver,  the  other  firmly  self-con- 
trolled; the  former  is  restless,  acquisitive,  and  pas- 
sionate, the  latter  is  patient,  receptive,  and  re- 
strained. This  antithesis  of  character  might  be 
carried  out  in  almost  endless  detail;  but  convincing 
evidence  of  the  complete  contrast  between  Diana 
and  Carinthia  may  be  found  in  two  citations  from 
the  novels  in  which  the  women  appear.  In  the 
first  Diana  is  pictured  as  walking  in  the  woods 
with  Redworth  three  days  before  her  marrage 
to  him. 

"She  was  Irish;  therefore  intuitively  decorous  in 
amatory  challenges  and  interchanges.  But  she  was 
an  impulsive  woman,  and  foliage  was  thick  around, 


178     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

only  a  few  small  birds  and  heaven  seeing;  and  peni- 
tence and  admiration  sprang  the  impulse.  It  had 
to  be  this  or  a  burst  of  weeping: — she  put  a  kiss  upon 
his  arm.  She  had  omitted  to  think  that  she  was 
dealing  with  a  lover,  a  man  of  smothered  fire,  who 
would  be  electrically  alive  to  the  act.  Redworth  had 
his  impulse.  He  kept  it  under — she  felt  the  big 
breath  he  drew  in.  .  ,  .  The  impulse  of  each  had 
wedded;  in  expression  and  repression;  her  sensibility 
told  her  of  the  stronger." 

Beside  this  may  be  placed  the  passage  in  which 
the  Countess  of  Fleetwood  took  leave  of  her  husband. 
Towards  the  end  of  a  long  conversation  in  which  he 
strove  to  win  her  back  to  her  old  regard  for  him,  she 
silenced  him  in  these  words: 

"'Do  not  beg  of  me,  my  lord.  I  have  my  brother 
and  my  son.  No  more  of  husband  for  me!  God 
has  given  me  a  friend,  too, — a  man  of  humble  heart, 
my  brother's  friend,  my  dear  Rebecca's  husband. 
He  can  take  them  from  me;  no  one  but  God.  See 
the  splendid  sky  we  have.' — With  these  words  she 
barred  the  gates  on  him;  at  the  same  time  she  be- 
stowed the  frank  look  of  an  amiable  face  and  brilliant 
in  the  lively  red  of  her  exercise,  in  its  bent-brow 
curve  along  the  forehead,  out  of  the  line  of  beauty, 
touching,  as  her  voice  was,  to  make  an  undertone 
of  anguish  swell  an  ecstasy.  So  he  felt  it,  for  his 
mood  was  now  the  lover's." 

Surely  two  things  are  made  clear  by  these  quota- 
tions: first,  the  marked  contrast  between  the  wom- 
en; and  then,  perhaps  of  even  more  importance 
than  that,  the  strong  moral  basis  which  underlies 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  179 

Meredith's  assault  upon  the  conventional  marriage 
arrangements  of  the  present  day. 

Aside  from  the  fact  that  "The  Amazing  Marriage" 
is  closely  connected  in  one  way  and  another  with  the 
three  prose  works  which  immediately  preceded  it 
and  which  with  it  constituted  Meredith's  main  con- 
tribution to  literature  during  a  period  of  concen- 
trated interest,  it  is  a  matter  of  some  interest  that 
his  last  piece  of  fiction  should  have  elements  gath- 
ered from  every  one  of  his  earlier  novels.  To  go 
back  to  Meredith's  second  period— the  first  of  his 
novel  writing — it  is  clear  that  Sir  Austin  Feverel's 
"Pilgrim's  Scrip"  bears  very  nearly  the  same  rela- 
tion to  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  as  Captain 
John  Kirby's  "Book  of  Maxims"  to  "The  Amazing 
Marriage."  Again,  although  Gower  Woodseer  in 
the  latter  work  may,  perhaps,  be  in  some  respects  a 
study  of  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  he  is  none  the  less 
a  reappearance  of  John  Raikes  from  "  Evan  Harring- 
ton." That  he  is  more  complex  and  better  bred,  one 
cannot  deny,  but  surely  his  worry  about  his  shabby 
clothes,  and  his  marriage  with  Madge  Winch  recall 
Raikes's  care  for  his  dilapidated  hat,  and  his  union 
with  Polly  Wheedle.  From  another  point  of  view, 
that  of  love  for  nature,  it  is  true  that  Woodseer  has 
little  in  common  with  Raikes;  but  this  only  serves  to 
bring  him  into  relationship  with  another  character 
drawn  by  Meredith — Vernon  Whitford  in  "The 
Egoist."  Further,  the  love  which  Carinthia  and 
Chillon  Kirby  have  for  each  other  is  much  like  that 
existing  between  Georgiana  Ford  and  her  half- 
brother  Merthyr  Powys,  in  both  "Sandra  Belloni" 


180     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

and  "Vittoria";  and  it  may  also  be  held,  perhaps, 
that  the  elder  Countess  of  Fleetwood  by  her  refined 
cruelty  more  than  once  reminds  the  reader  of  the 
von  Lenkenstein  ladies  in  "Vittoria."  Again,  the 
Earl's  return  to  Carinthia  after  the  ill-treatment 
which  he  had  dealt  out  to  her,  and  his  disappoint- 
ment that  her  love  was  no  longer  his,  both  of  course 
suggest  the  similar  situation  in  "Rhoda  Fleming." 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
connection  between  "The  Amazing  Marriage"  and 
the  first  two  novels  of  Meredith's  third  period 
is  not  very  strongly  pronounced,  unless  it  may  be 
thought  that  the  elder  Woodseer  has  something  in 
common  with  Captain  Jasper  Welsh  in  "The  Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond,"  and  that  the  Lady 
Arpington  was  dra^n  from  the  model  which  furnished 
Rosamund  Culling  in  "Beauchamp's  Career." 
But  the  Earl  of  Fleetwood,  in  his  egoistical  de- 
termination to  keep  his  word  at  any  cost,  and 
in  his  eager  desire  to  escape  being  made  ridicu- 
lous, is  beyond  a  doubt  like  Sir  Willoughby  Pat- 
terne  in  "The  Egoist,"  and,  therefore,  also  like 
Sigismund  Alvan  in  "The  Tragic  Comedians." 
Finally,  so  far  as  minor  characters  are  concerned, 
the  Ladies  Endor,  Eldritch,  and  Cowry,  as  studies 
of  gossips,  are  second  only  in  importance  to  the  in- 
imitable Ladies  Bussche  and  Culmer  in  Meredith's 
greatest  work. 

The  more  important  lines  of  relationship  between 
"The  Amazing  Marriage"  and  the  earlier  novels  of 
Meredith's  fourth  period  have  already  been  pointed 
out  in  another  connection;  but  it  may  be  added  in 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  181 

passing,  that  old  John  Kirby  had  the  same  reasons 
as  had  Lord  Ormont  for  being  dissatisfied  with  the 
treatment  which  his  country  accorded  him,  and  that 
Carinthia's  engagement,  which  was  as  hasty  as 
Diana's  to  Warwick  or  as  Aminta's  to  Ormont,  was 
followed  like  theirs  by  a  long  period  of  unhappiness 
due,  in  keeping  with  Meredith's  theories,  to  the 
lady's  permitting  her  heart  to  act  without  the  guid- 
ance of  her  reason. 

This  endeavor  to  show  that  Meredith's  latest 
prose- work  is  to  a  great  extent  the  product  of  forces 
resident  in  all  his  earlier  novels,  is  not  unlikely  to 
give  offence  to  many  of  his  admirers;  as  also  is 
the  assumption  persisted  in,  throughout  this  whole 
study,  that  a  network  of  analogies  and  similarities 
binds  his  novels  into  what  might  be  termed  a  fabric 
of  firmest  texture.  Doubtless  some  readers  of  Mere- 
dith would  be  inclined  to  feel  that  not  a  few  of  the 
threads  are  pretty  tenuous;  yet  all  but  those  whose 
enthusiasm  blurs  their  vision  must  see  that,  large  and 
thickly  settled  as  the  world  of  Meredith's  novels  is, 
its  chief  inhabitants,  if  not  all  of  one  nation,  are 
plainly  all  of  one  family.  If  it  be  objected  that  this 
proves  too  much  in  that  it  detracts  from  Meredith's 
fame  rather  than  adds  to  it,  the  reply  must  be  made 
that  no  one  more  quickly  than  Meredith  himself 
would  regret  the  existence  of  a  renown  built  upon 
insecure  foundations.  "Lord,  save  me  from  my 
friends,"  has  been  the  prayer  of  many  a  man  before 
the  present  time,  as  it  will  be  that  of  many  another 
in  time  to  come ;  and  Meredith  unfortunately  has  not 
been  without  a  bitter  knowledge  of  the  need  of  that 


182     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

petition.  He  is  a  great  novelist — the  greatest,  let  it 
be  conceded  for  the  nonce,  among  English  writers — 
but  he  is  not  Shakespeare,  as  some  admirers  would 
have  us  believe,  nor  perhaps,  save  now  and  then, 
even  Shakesperean,  as  others  would  strive  to  make 
us  admit.  That  he  has  firmly  placed  himself  in  no 
mean  niche  in  the  temple  of  permanent  literature, 
only  a  blinded  or  a  prejudiced  observer  can  deny; 
but  to  assert  that  he  is  one  of  that  company  to 
which,  as  yet,  only  Homer  and  Dante  and  Shakes- 
peare belong  makes  both  Meredith  and  his  undis- 
criminating  admirers  ridiculous. 

In  general,  of  course,  it  is  always  hazardous  to 
prophesy  the  permanence  of  any  man's  fame;  still, 
from  at  least  one  point  of  view,  it  can  be  asserted 
without  hesitation  that  ^Meredith's  name  must  be  re- 
membered as  long  as  English  literature  shall  endure. 
Unlike  most  other  writers  whose  real  influence  has 
been  felt  only  by  some  subsequent  generation,  Mere- 
dith has  permeated  the  work  of  his  contemporaries. 
By  this  is  meant  that  he  has  awakened  such  general 
respect  as  to  make  him  acceptable  without  envy  to 
the  other  novelists  of  at  least  his  later  years.  They 
acknowledge  his  superiority,  they  look  upon  him  as 
unapproachable,  they  call  him  Master.  In  evidence 
of  this,  one  may  note  the  fact  that  in  present  dis- 
cussions of  novels  the  critic  nearly  always  refers  to 
George  Meredith  as  a  standard  of  measurement. 
Nor,  indeed,  is  that  the  only  use  to  which  the 
great  writer  and  his  novels  are  put.  It  is,  of  course, 
to  be  expected  that  INIeredith's  name  would  be 
mentioned   bv  Hall  Caine  in  an  article  on   "New 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  183 

Watchwords  in  Fiction,"  and  by  Herbert  Paul 
in  his  "Apotheosis  of  the  Novel  under  Queen  Vic- 
toria"; but  one  is  a  bit  startled  at  finding  a  quota- 
tion from  "  Diana  of  the  Crossways"  in  an  account  of 
"The  Development  of  Decorative  Electricity"  and  at 
discovering  a  reference  to  its  author  in  a  discussion 
of  "The  Humor  of  the  Colored  Supplement."  And 
allusions  to  Meredith  abound  elsewhere  than  upon 
the  pages  of  periodical  publications.  Thomas 
Humphry  Ward's  "Reign  of  Queen  Victoria"  and 
Justin  McCarthy's  "History  of  Our  Own  Times" 
each  of  course  gives  a  note  of  considerable  length 
upon  Meredith;  Robert  Louis  Stevenson's  letters, 
Oscar  Wilde's  essays,  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne's 
critical  articles,  and  William  Sharpe's  biographies 
of  Rossetti  and  of  Browning  make  frequent  mention 
of  the  man  and  his  work;  a  rather  unusual  num- 
ber of  books  have  been  dedicated  to  him  by  novelists, 
critics,  and  poets;  and  finally,  to  mention  only  ex- 
tremes, such  writers  as  Richard  Le  Gallienne,  the 
latest  of  the  aesthetes  worth  reckoning  with,  and 
May  Sinclair,  the  latest  of  the  realists  exhibiting 
true  promise,  refer  in  their  novels  to  the  works  of 
George  Meredith  in  the  calm  tone  with  which  one 
mentions  the  assured  permanence  of  the  writings 
of  Moliere  and  Goethe.  Thus  it  is  plainly  per- 
ceivable that  the  literature  of  the  present  day  is 
embroidered — if  the  figure  will  be  allowed — thickly 
embroidered,  indeed,  with  the  name  of  Meredith, 
with  the  titles  of  his  novels,  and  even  with  extended 
quotations  from  what  he  has  written. 

But  a  still  closer  inspection  of  recent  literature 


184     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

makes  it  clear  that  Meredith  is  woven  into  the  very 
texture  of  the  fabric  as  well  as  embroidered  upon  it. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century,  Mr.  T. 
H.  S.  Escott,  in  his  "Personal  Forces  of  the  Period," 
asserted  that  the  late  James  Payn  "  who,  as  publish- 
er's reader,  saw  more  of  manuscript  novels  than  most 
people,  declared  that  with  the  acceptance  of  Mere- 
dith as  a  favorite,  there  appeared  a  distinct  improve- 
ment in  the  literary  workmanship  of  the  documents 
with  which  he  had  to  deal."  Ten  years  later  in 
corroboration  of  this  statement,  Mrs.  Craigie  did 
not  hesitate  to  say  that  all  the  most  worthy  of  living 
English  novelists,  with  the  exception  of  Thomas 
Kardy,  were  distinguished  disciples  of  George  Mere- 
dith. The  remark  was  a  trifle  sweeping,  perhaps; 
yet  it  is  indisputable  that  INIeredith's  influence  has 
been  strongly  and  widely  felt.  Mr.  Escott  finds  its 
leavening  effect  in  the  Australian  stories  of  Mrs. 
Patchett  Martin  and  of  Mrs.  Campbell  Praed,  in  the 
critical  work  of  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  and  of  Mr. 
H.  D.  Traill,  and  in  both  the  prose  and  the  verse  of 
William  Ernest  Henley.  Others  have  gone  so  far  as 
to  assert  that  nearly  every  recent  story  of  adventure, 
whether  it  be  Stevenson's  "Kidnapped,"  or  Hope's 
"Prisoner  of  Zenda,"  or  Hewlett's  "Forest  Lovers," 
can  be  traced  more  or  less  directly  to  "  The  Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond";  while  with  as  little  discrimina- 
tion the  poems  of  James  Thomson,  the  novels  of 
Robert  Hichens,  and  the  plays  of  Bernard  Shaw 
in  their  expression,  their  psychology,  or  their  wit 
are  often  assumed  to  be  the  aftermath  of  Mere- 
dith's first  reaping.     Such  hypotheses  break  down 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  185 

by  their  own  weight;  still,  although  at  the  risk  of 
writing  oneself  among  the  makers  of  them,  one  feels 
tolerably  safe  in  holding  that  many  of  the  aphor- 
istic utterances  of  Oscar  Wilde  would  have  remained 
unsaid,  and  more  than  one  page  in  the  work  of 
George  du  Maurier  and  of  Sarah  Grand  would  nerer 
have  reached  the  reader,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
novels  of  George  Meredith.  The  school  life  de- 
picted in  "Peter  Ibbetson"  and  in  "The  Martian," 
the  beautiful  Duchess  of  Towers,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate Trilby  O'Farrell  are  obviously  the  result  of  a 
close  reading  of  Meredith's  novels;  and  a  mere 
mention  of  "The  Heavenly  Twins"  or  of  "The  Beth 
Book"  should  be  a  sufficient  answer  to  the  critic 
who  regrets  that  literature  does  not  possess  any 
such  adequate  study  of  awakening  womanhood  as  is 
found  of  adolescent  boyhood  in  "The  Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel." 

Open  to  dispute  as  some  of  these  specific  claims 
may  be,  there  can  be  but  little  doubt  that  Meredith 
has  had  a  striking  influence  upon  a  considerable 
number  of  recent  writers.  As  an  example  of  the 
dominance  which  a  great  author  sometimes  exerts 
over  a  devoted  disciple,  one  of  the  earlier  works  of 
Charles  Marriott  may  be  taken  and  subjected  to  close 
scrutiny.  The  table  of  contents  of  the  novel  en- 
titled "The  Column,"  in  which  Chapter  XXVII  is 
called  "The  Development  of  the  Emotional  Idea," 
and  Chapter  XXVIII  "The  Great  Sweet  Mother," 
shows  a  reader  immediately,  that  he  is  in  company 
with  a  scholar  of  the  Meredith  school.  If,  however, 
he  is  kindly  disposed  at  the  outset  to  give  Mr.  Mar- 


186     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

riott  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  he  will  find  that  his  first 
impressions  are  strengthened  rather  than  weakened 
when,  as  he  turns  to  the  story,  he  meets  w^ith  such 
characters  as  Caspar  Gillies,  and  Johnnie  Bargister, 
and  Daphne  Hastings.  If  he  does  not  see  in  the 
cynicism  of  the  first,  an  after  study  of  Adrian  Harley; 
in  the  boyishness  of  the  second,  an  attempted  com- 
posite portrait  of  Richard  Feverel  and  Crossjay  Pat- 
terne;  and  in  the  mingled  simplicity  and  stateliness 
of  the  last,  a  curious  mosaic  of  Sandra  Belloni,  Clara 
Middleton,  Aminta  Farrell,  and  Carinthia  Kirby,  he 
must  be  wholly  without  a  knowledge  of  ^Meredith's 
best  works.  Nor  does  the  discipleship  end  here. 
Edward  Hastings,  who  is  "now  and  again  letting 
fall  some  concentrated  paradox  on  the  training  of 
the  young,"  holds  somewhat  the  same  attitude 
towards  the  world  in  general  and  towards  his  daugh- 
ter in  particular,  as  was  characteristic  of  Sir  Austin 
in  his  relation  to  society  and  to  his  son  Richard. 
Gertrude  Laffey,  also,  in  her  philanthropic  enter- 
prises may  seem  not  unlike  Lady  Judith  Felle;  but 
her  real  prototype  is  INIrs.  Mount,  for  her  tempta- 
tion of  Basil  Waring  is  too  much  like  one  of  the  chap- 
ters in  "The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel"  to  leave  a 
reader  very  long  in  doubt  of  the  connection.  Finally, 
so  far  as  minor  characters  are  concerned,  ^Michael 
Trigg,  whom  the  village  of  Tregotha  looked  upon  as 
Daphne's  watchdog,  recalls  Ripton  Thompson  in 
his  devotion  to  Lucy  Feverel;  and  clearly  Basil 
Waring  is  Wilfred  Pole  transferred  to  a  new  field, 
but  still  endowed  with  all  his  old  time  sentimen- 
talitv,  insinceritv,  and  divided  admiration. 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  187 

Again  in  matters  of  situation  and  style,  "The 
Column  "  plainly  betrays  the  influence  under  which 
it  was  written.  Caspar  Gillies's  band  is  no  doubt 
Victor  Radnor's  orchestra  borrowed  from  "One 
of  Our  Conquerors";  and  Daphne's  rending  of  the 
strings  of  her  viola  forcibly  reminds  one  of  old  Bel- 
loni's  breaking  of  the  neck  of  his  violin.  Then,  to 
go  back  in  the  plot,  the  betrothal  in  the  shadow  of 
the  Grecian  pillar,  carries  one  first  to  the  meeting  at 
Wilming  Weir  and  afterwards,  although  somewhat 
less  surely,  to  Richard  and  Lucy  in  the  woods  near 
Raynham.  Moreover,  the  conversation  between 
Daphne  and  Basil  about  the  name  to  be  given  their 
child,  is  strongly  reminiscent  of  a  similar  passage  in 
"The  Amazing  Marriage,"  as  also  are  the  changes  in 
Daphne,  when  she  becomes  almost  passionate  in  her 
motherhood,  but  at  the  same  time  loses  the  love 
which  she  once  bore  her  boy's  father. 

These  many  scenes,  furthermore,  are  presented  in 
language  which  could  only  have  been  studied  in 
Meredith's  books.  This  is  evident,  not  simply  in  that 
Mr.  Marriott  wrote — to  choose  at  random — "The 
widening  of  the  doors  of  her  discretion  was  admirably 
gradual,"  but  in  that  a  comparison  may  frequently 
be  set  up  between  the  two  authors  as  when,  for  in- 
stance, one  reads  in  "The  Column,"  "The  clamour 
of  the  sea-birds  dropped  to  a  gobbling  murmur  so 
absurdly  suggestive  of  dinner  conversation  that  the 
girl  laughed  aloud"  and  is  immediately  led  to  re- 
member that  Meredith  wrote  in  "The  Egoist"  many 
years  ago,  "The  downpour  pressed  down  on  the  land 
with  a  great  roar  of  eager  gobbling,  much  like  that 


188     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

of  the  swine's  trough  fresh  filled."  It  may  also  be 
pointed  out  in  passing  that  Mr.  Marriott  twice  em- 
ploys a  device  used  by  Meredith  in  the  forty-third 
chapter  of  "Rhoda  Fleming"  to  make  the  reader 
cognizant  of  the  fact,  that  beneath  a  conversation 
of  no  great  depth,  a  real  conflict  of  souls  is  going 
on.  Both  Richard  Le  Gallienne  and  Paul  Elmer 
More  have  quoted  the  passage  from  Meredith  for 
entirely  different  reasons,  although  they  unite  in 
praising  it  for  its  high  realism;  but  Mr.  Marriott's 
unquestioning  adoption  of  his  master's  method  shows 
him  to  be  a  disciple  indeed. 

\\ithout  seeking  to  inquire  whether  IVIr.  H.  G. 
Wells  does  actually  show  the  influence  of  Meredith 
in  the  opening  chapters  of  "Love  and  Mr.  Lewis- 
ham,"  or  whether  the  sources  of  "The  Beloved  Vaga- 
bond," by  W.  G.  Locke,  may  really  be  sought 
in  "The  Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond";  without 
undertaking  to  do  more  than  notice  the  statement  of 
Mr.  W.  R.  Nicoll  that  both  George  Gissing  and 
Thomas  Hardy  openly  admitted  that  but  for  the  en- 
couragement which  they  received  from  INIr.  Mere- 
dith as  publisher's  reader,  they  would  never  have 
devoted  themselves  to  writing,  one  may  feel  safe  in 
assuming  that  the  thoroughness  with  which  Mere- 
dith and  his  work  are  embedded  in  present-day 
literature,  will  prevent  his  being  ignored  by  any 
future  student,  however  distant  the  point  of  view, 
or  however  cursory  the  glance.  Such  immortality 
is,  in  the  literary  world,  but  little  different  from 
that  in  the  spiritual  world,  as  suggested  by  George 
Eliot   in   the    poem,   "O,   may   I    join    the   Choir 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  189 

Invisible!"  The  woman's  teaching  is,  that  liaving 
Uved,  we  continue  to  exist  until  the  end  of  time,  by 
virtue  of  the  influence  which  we  exert  over  those 
whom  we  meet,  and  which  they  extend  to  those  who 
follow  them.  Unsatisfactory  as  such  immortality 
seems  to  the  many,  it  is  none  the  less  based  upon  an 
assured  scientific  fact,  and  is,  therefore,  indisputably 
certain.  Admitting  then,  for  the  moment,  all  that 
the  most  adverse  critics  have  said  against  Meredith, 
that  his  style  is  insufferably  bad,  that  his  method 
could  not  be  conceivably  worse,  that  his  characters 
are  wholly  impossible,  and  that  his  mission  is  fool- 
ishly vain,  no  one,  whether  admirer  or  not,  can  deny 
that  he  is  assured  of  a  position  neither  insignificant 
nor  inconspicuous. 

But  to  not  a  few  of  his  readers,  Meredith  seems  de- 
serving of  much  more  than  that  kind  of  immortality 
which  rests  upon  the  mention  of  his  name  by  other 
authors  and  upon  the  formative  influence  obviously 
exerted  by  his  writings.  The  knowledge  of  what 
must  be  is  greatened  in  the  minds  of  many  by  faith 
in  what  will  be:  and  when  that  faith  is  put  to  trial, 
they  are  far  from  feeling  that  it  is  without  a  sub- 
stantial basis  in  reason.  Still,  if  such  have  learned 
anything  from  their  reading  of  the  man  whom  they 
delight  to  honor,  they  hesitate  to  name  his  absolute 
place.  Whatever  the  impulse  of  the  heart,  they 
know  that  it  should  be  tempered  by  the  working 
of  the  brain;  and  they  therefore  do  not  undertake 
to  assert  more  than  that  Meredith  must  be  regarded 
as  no  unworthy  companion  of  the  greatest  English 
novelists.     If  the  sneer  of  the  critic  accuses  them  of 


190     THE  NOVELS  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

liavinff  but  faint  confidence  in  their  belief,  thev  are 
not  betrayed  into  fruitless  wrangling  or  loud  de- 
fence. Serenely  unmoved,  they  let  Meredith  speak 
for  himself.  Surely  no  just  man  can  find  fault 
with  the  intermingling  of  honest  pride  and  sin- 
cere humility  behind  that  sonnet,  to  which  Mere- 
dith, writing  in  his  middle  age,  gave  the  name  of 
"Internal  Harmony." 

"Assured  of  worthiness  we  do  not  dread 
Competitors;  we  rather  give  them  hail 
And  greeting  in  the  lists  where  we  may  faih 
Must,  if  we  bear  an  aim  beyond  the  head! 
My  betters  are  my  masters:  purely  fed 
By  their  sustainment  I  likewise  shall  scale 
Some  rocky  steps  between  the  mount  and  vale; 
Meanwhile  the  mark  I  have  and  I  will  wed. 
So  that  I  draw  the  breath  of  finer  air, 
Station  is  naught,  nor  footways  laurel-strewn, 
Nor  rivals  tightly  belted  for  the  race. 
Good  speed  to  them!     My  place  is  here  or  there; 
My  pride  is  that  among  them  I  have  place: 
And  thus  I  keep  this  instrument  in  tune." 

Truly  such  calm  self-analysis  explains  the  re- 
markable patience  with  which  Meredith  awaits  the 
decision  of  the  wise  years.  If  in  the  w^ords  of 
Lowell, 

"Some  innate  weakness  there  must  be 
In  him  who  condescends  to  victory 
Such  as  the  present  gives  and  cannot  wait 
Safe  in  himself  as  in  a  fate, " 

Meredith  through  the  absence  of  such  weakness, 
shows   himself  endowed   with  noble   strength   and 


THE  MASTER-WORKMAN  191 

manly  power.  A  prophet,  it  has  been  said,  is  not 
without  honor  save  in  his  own  country;  and  with 
equal  truth,  it  might  have  been  added,  save  in  his 
own  time.  It  is  the  privilege  of  Meredith's  friends, 
therefore,  to  keep  silence;  for  looking  back  from  the 
present  through  the  long  period  of  his  activity,  and 
realizing  once  more  the  calm  confidence  which  en- 
abled him  to  go  on  with  his  work  in  the  face  of 
indifference,  opposition  and  contempt,  we  well 
may  say: 

"He  knew  to  bide  his  time 
And  can  his  fame  abide." 


A  LIST 
OF  THE  CHARACTERS  IN 
GEORGE  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 
WITH  AN  ENUMERATION  OF 
THE  CHAPTERS  IN  WHICH 
THEY  APPEAR 


French,  German,  Spanish,  and  Itahan  names  beginning 
with  particles  of  relationship  are  entered  under  the  letter 
with  which  the  chief  member  of  the  compound  begins,  thus: 

D'AUFFRAY.  AGNES,  follows  ATTENBURY,  LADY 

DE  COL.  MARQUIS,  follows  COGGLESBY.  TOM 

VON  CREFELDT,  BARONESS,  follows  CREEDMORE.  LORD 


194 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


ABARAK — Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

XII,   XVI-XX,   XXIII,   XXIV. 

ABNER — Rhoda  Fleming:  xlii. 

ABNER,  ARTHUR— Lord  Or- 
mont  and  His  Aminta:  ii-iv,  xi, 

XVI,  XXVI. 

ABNETT,  JOSHUA— Lord  Or- 
mont  and  His  Aminta:  xxi. 

ABRANE,  CAPTAIN— Amazing 
Marriage:  vii-xii,  xv-xvii,   xx, 

XXIII,       XXVI,       XXVIII,       XXXIV, 
XXXV,    XXXVIII -XLI,    XLV. 

ABRANE,     RUFUS  —  Amazing 

Marriage:  ii,  iii. 
ABT.  HEINRICH— Farina:  x. 
ADDERWOOD,    LORD  —  Lord 

Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  ill,  vi, 

VIII,  XI-XIII,  XV,  XXI,  XXIII,  XXV, 
XXIX. 

ADDICOTE,  GILBERT  — Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  xiil. 

ADELINE — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  vil. 

AENNCHEN  —  Adventures  of 
Harry    Richmond:    xv,    xxiv, 

XXV,  XXVII,  XXXI,  XXXIII,  xxxv, 
XLVIII. 

AENNCHEN— Vit  to  ria:  xiii, 

XXVII,    XXXIX,    XLII,    XLIV. 

AEPFELM  ANN,  HANS— Farina: 

I. 
AKLIS — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  xiv. 
AKLIS,    SONS    OF— Shaving   of 

Shagpat:  v,  vi,  xiv,  xvii,  xx, 

XXIV. 

AKLIS,  BRIDES  OF— Shaving  of 
Shagpat:  xiii,  xiv,  xx. 

ALFRED,  LORD— Beauchamp's 
Career:  xlii. 

ALMERYLE— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat: II. 

ALONZO— .see  CAMWELL,  AU- 
GUSTUS. 


ALPHONSE— Adventuresof  Har- 
ry   Richmond:    iv,    xxiii-xxv, 

XXXVIII,   XXXIX,   XLIV,   LIII. 

ALTKNOPFCHEN,        DAME— 
Farina:  ll. 

ALTON,   LORD— Adventures   of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxxix,  XL,  l. 

ALVAN,  SIGISMUND  —Tragic 
Comedians:  Introduction,  i-xix. 

AMALIA,     DUCHESS— Vittoria: 

XI-XIV,  XIX,  XX,  XXVII,  XXVIII, 
XXX,  XXXVI,  XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XL, 
XLII,  XLIV,  XLV. 

AMELIA— Egoist:  xiv. 

AMMIANI,    COUNT    CARLO— 
Vittoria:     i-viii,     x,     xii-xxv, 

XXVII -XLVI. 

AMMIANI,  CARLO  MERTHYR 

— Vittoria:  Epilogue. 

AMMIANI,    COUNTESS    MAR- 
CELLINA — Vittoria:  xvi,xviii, 

XIX,  XXI,  XXIII,  XXIV,  xxvii, 
XXX,  XXXI,  XXXIII-XXXIX,  XLI- 
XLIII. 

AMMIANI,   GENERAL   PAOLO 
— Vittoria:  xiv-xvi,  xxx,  xxxi, 

XLIII. 

ANDREAS— Vittoria:  xxvii. 

D'ANDREUZE,    COUNTESS 
JULIA — -Amazing  Marriage:  ii. 

ANDREWS,    ELIZABETH— see 
BERRY,  ELIZABETH. 

ANNA,  AUNT— Rhoda  Fleming: 

XVII-XX,  XXIII,  XLIV. 

ANTON — Amazing  Marriage:   v- 

VII. 

D'ARCI— Vittoria:  xxxi. 
AREEP— Shaving    of    Shagpat: 

XXII. 

ARLINGTON— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: IX,  XXV,  XXXVI,  XXXIX. 


196 


A  LIST  OF  CliARACTERS 


ARMETT,  MISS— Adventures  of 

Harry  Richmond:  xxxix. 
ARMSTRONG,    ROBERT  —  see 

ECCLES,  ROBERT. 
ARNOLDO— Vittoria:  xxi. 
ARONLEY,    LORD— see    ROM- 

FREY,  EVERARD,  and  ROM- 

FREY,  CRAVEN. 
ARPINGTON,  LADY— Amazing 

Marriage:     ii,     xii,     xx-xx\th, 

XXX\T,     XXXVII,     XL,     XLI,     XLV- 
XLVII. 

ASHWORTH   —  Adventures   of 

Harry  Richmond:  vi. 
D'ASOLA,    VIOLETTA    —    see 

D'ISORELLA,  COUNTESS. 

ASPER,  CONSTANCE— Diana  of 
the   Crossways:     xv-xvii,    xix, 

XXI-XXIII,     XXVI,     XXVII,     XXIX, 
XXXV-XXXVII,    XXXIX. 

ASRAC,  EBN— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:  II. 

ASSUNT A— Vittoria:  xxviii. 


ASWARAK,  VIZIER— Shaving 
of  iShagpat:  ii. 

ATTENBURY,  LADY— Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel:  iv. 

D'AUFFRAY,  AGNES  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxiii-xxv,  XL, 

XLII,    XLIII. 

D'AUFFRAY,  M.— Beauchamp's 
Career:  xxiii,  xxiv, 

AUSTIN,  SEYMOUR—  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  x\t-xxii,  xxvi, 
XXVIII,  xxxii,  xxx\^I,  xxxix, 

XLV-XLVIII,    LIV. 

A\'ERST,  EDITH— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xxvi,  xxxv. 

AVERST,    SIR    JOHN— One    of 

Our  Conquerors:  xx\i. 
AVONLEY,    LORD— see    ROM- 

FREY,  CRAVEN. 
AZAWOOL— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

XXI-XXIII. 

AZROOKA— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 


B 


BAERENS,  GOTTFRIED— Case 
of  General  Ople  and  Lady 
Camper:  i,  vi,  viii. 

BAERENS,  MRS.— Case  of  Gen- 
eral Ople  and  Lady  Camper:  i, 

VI,  VIII. 

BAG ARAG,  SHIBLI— Shaving  of 
Shagpat:    i,    lu,    v-xxi,    xxiii, 

XXIV. 

BAGENHOPE — Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  liii. 

BAIRAM,  DR.  BENJAMIN— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  xv^II, 

XXV,  XLV. 

BAKER — Adventures    of    Harry 

Richmond:  iii. 
BAKEWELL,    MRS.— Ordeal   of 

Richard   Feverel:    vi,    xi,   xxv, 

XXVI. 

BAKEA^^LL,  TOM— Ordeal  of 
Richard    Feverel:    iii-xiii,    xx- 

XXVI,  xxviii-xxxi,       xxxiv, 

XXXVII-XXXIX,    XLIII,    XLIV. 

BALDERINI,  AGOSTINO— Vit- 
toria: I-^^II,  X,  XII,  XV,  xvi, 
x-\aii-xxi,  XXXI,  xxxv,  xxxix, 

XLII-XL^T. 

BANDELMEYER,  GREGORIUS 

-Adventu'-es    of    Harry    Rich- 
mond: XXXII. 


BANDINELLI.  GIULIO  —  Vit- 
toria: I-V,  XXX\T,  XL-XLIV. 

BANNERBRIDGE,  CHARLES 
ADOLPIIUS  —  Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  ii-iv,  xix,  XL, 

LI,   Lll. 

BANNERBRIDGE,  MISS— Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond:  ii, 

IX,  XLIV. 

BANNISTER,  MRS.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xxiii. 

BANTAM,  THE— see  JINKSON, 
GILES. 

BARBARA,  LADY  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xui. 

BARCLAY — Egoist:  xix,  xxv. 
xx\ai,  XXIX. 

BARCLAY,  COLONEL— Rhoda 
Fleming:  xxi,  xxii. 

BARCOP,  MRS.— Case  of  General 
Ople  and  Lady  Camper:  ii,  iv, 
\i,  ■vai. 

BARENLIEB— Farina:  xiii. 

BARLEY,  SUSAN— see  DEW- 
LAP, DUCHESS  OF. 

BARMBY,  REVEREND  SEPTI- 
MUS— One  of  Our  Conquerors: 
IV,  ^1U,  IX,  XI,  xiv-xviii,  XXI, 
XXII.  XXIV.  xxv,  XXVU-XXXIII, 
XXX-VT-XXXIX,    XLI,    XLII. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


197 


BARNES — Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:  XLIII. 

BARNES,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton: I,  II,  VII. 

BARNSHED   —  Adventures     of 

Harry  Richnaond:  vi. 
BARRETT,  LADY— Sandra  Bel- 

loni:  X,  lv. 
BARRETT,  SIR  JUSTINIAN— 

Sandra  Belloni:  x,  LV. 
BARRETT,  PERCIVAL— Sandra 

Belloni:  lv. 
BARRETT,   PURCELL— Sandra 

Belloni:    vii-x,    xiv-xvii,    xix, 

xxi-xxiii,  xxix,  xxxi,  xxxiii, 

XXXIV,      XXXVII-XL,      XLIII,      LV- 
LVII. 

BARRINGTON.  LADY— Evan 
Harrington:  i. 

BARRINGTON,  MRS.  —  Evan 
Harrington:  xxii. 

BARTHOLOMEW,  PETER— 
Sandra  Belloni:  xi. 

BARTLETT— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond:  xliii. 

BARTLETT— Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:  XII,  XL. 

BARTLETT— Egoist:  xvii. 

BASKELETT,  CAPTAIN  CECIL 
— Beauchamp's  Career:  ii,  xi, 
XIV,  xix-xxn,  xxvi,  xxviii- 
XXXII,  XXXIV,  xxxvt,  XXXIX, 
XL-XLV,  XLVIII,   LII,    LV. 

BASKELETT,  SIR  JOHN  AND 
LADY — Beauchamp's     Career: 

XXXIII. 

BATTISTA— Vittoria:  x. 
BAYNES     —     Sandra     Belloni: 

XXXIV,  XXXVII. 

BAYRUFFLE,  HONORABLE 
MRS. — Sandra  Belloni:   xxxiv, 

XXXVII,  LVII. 

BEAMISH,     BEAU  —  Tale     of 

Chloe:  i-viii,  x. 
BEAN,     DR.— Rhoda     Fleming: 

XIX. 

BEATRICE— Lord    Ormont   and 

His  Aminta:  in. 
BEAUCHAMP,         ELIZABETH 

MARY — Beauchamp's     Career: 

II,  III,  XVI,  XXVI,  xxviii,  xxxii, 

XXXVII,   XXXIX. 

BEAUCHAMP,  LADY  EMILY— 
Beauchamp's  Career:  ii. 

BEAUCHAMP.  NEVIL— Beau- 
champ's Career:  i-lvi. 


BEAUCHAMP,COLONEL  RICH- 
ARD— Beauchamp's  Career:  ii, 

XXVI,   XLIX. 

BEAUCHAMP,  ROSAMOND— 
see  CULLING,  ROSAMOND. 

BEAUMARIS,  LORD— Adven- 
tures    of     Harry     Richmond: 

XXXIX. 

BEAZLEY,  MR.— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  xvi,  xxvi. 

BEL,  AUNT— see  CURRENT. 
ISABELLE. 

BELFIELD,  DUKE  OF— Evan 
Harrington:  xiv,  xvi,  xviii,  xix. 

XXI,  XXII,     XXIV.     XXIX-XXXIII, 
XXXVII,    XXXIX.    XLI. 

BELLONI,  EMILIA  ALESSAN- 
DRA,  also  known  as  VITTOR- 
IA CAMPA— Sandra  Belloni: 
i-xv,  xvii-Lix.  Vittoria:  ii- 
XLiv.  Epilogue. 

BELLONI.  GUISEPPE— Sandra 
Belloni:  v,  vi,  xxv,  xxvi,  xxx, 

XXXII,        XXXIV,         XXXIX,         XL, 
XLVIII,    L.    LII.    LIV. 

BELLONI.  MRS.— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:    VI,     XXXIX,     XLVII-L,     LII, 

Lix.      Vittoria:  v,  viii,  xi.  xiii, 

XIV.   XX,   XXVII,   XXXV. 

BELMARANA,  COUNT  —  Evan 
Harrington:  in,  ix. 

BELTHAM,  DOROTHY  —  Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond: 
I,  III,  IV,  Aai-xi,  XIV,  xviii-xx, 

XXII,  XXXVI-XXXVIII,    XL,    XLIII, 
XLIV,   XLVII,   XL\TII,   L-LVl. 

BELTHAM,  SQUIRE  HARRY 
LEPEL — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  i-iv,  vi-ix,  xi,  xii, 
XIV,  xviii-xx,  XXII,  xxv,  xxvil, 

xxx,      XXXVI-XLI,     XLIII,     XLIV, 
XLVI-mi,   LVI. 

BELTHAM.  MRS.— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  ix,  xxiii, 

XLI. 

BELTUS,  LADY— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xxiii. 

BENCH,  WALTER— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta:  xii. 

BENJAMIN— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: IV. 

BENLEW,  ROBERT  I— Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  xxii. 

BENLEW.  ROBERT  II— Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  xxii, 
XXVI,  xxx. 


198 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


BENLEW,     ELIZABETH     EG- 

LETT— Lord  Ormont  and  His 

Aminta:  xxii. 
BENLOMIK— Vittoria:  x. 
BENNETT.    BURLEY  —  Evan 

Harrington:  xxii. 
BENSON— Ordeal      of      Richard 

Feverel:  iv,  v,  vii,  x,  xiii,  xx- 

XXIV,  XXXI,    xxxin,    xxxiv, 

XLIV. 

BEPPO— Sandra  Belloni:  lix. 
Vittoria:     iii-vi,    xi-xv,    xxvi- 

XXVIII,       XXXI,       XXXII,       XXXV, 
XXXVII-XXXIX,   XLII,   XLIV-XLVI. 

BERNARDUS,  FATHER— Vit- 
toria: XXVII,  XXVIII. 

BERRY,  ELIZABETH  — Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel:  l,  xxvi, 
xxviii-xxxii,    xxxiv,    xxx\ai- 

XLI,    XLIII-XLV. 

BERRY,  MARTIN— Ordeal  of 
Richard     Feverel:     xxi,     xxii, 

XXV,  XXVI,  XXVIII,  XXX,  xxxvii, 
XXXIX-XU,    XLIII,  XLIV. 

BERTHA  OF  BOHMEN— Far- 
ina: VI. 

BH  AN  AVAR  THE  BEAUTIFUL 
— Shaving  of   Shagpat:  I,  ii,  x. 

BIGGOT,  TOM  —  Beauchamp's 
Career:  iv. 

BIGNET,  MADAME  BLANCHE 
— Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond: xxxii. 

BILLET,  SIMON— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: XX. 

BILLING— Rhoda  Fleming:  xviii , 

XXIV. 

BILLING.  MRS.— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing:  XXIV. 

BILTON,  STEPHEN  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  xvii-xxi. 

BLACHINGTON,  ADOLPHUS— 
One  of  Our  Conquerors:  xvil. 

BLACHINGTON,  LADY  ROD- 
WELL — One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors: XVII,  XX -XXII,  XXIV,  xxvii. 
XXX  VI. 

BLACHINGTON,  SIR  ROD- 
WELL — One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors: XIV,  XX-XXII.  XXIV,  XXVII, 
XXXVI. 

BLAIZE,  GILES  —  Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  ii-xi,  xv,  xxii, 

XXIII,  XXVI,  XXVIII-XXX,  XXXIV. 
XLI,    XLIII,    XLV. 

BLAIZE,  TOM— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard   Feverel:    i,    ix,    xx,    xxii- 

XXVI,  XXVIII,  xxxiv. 


BLANCO  VE,  ALGERNON— 
Rhoda  Fleming:  i,  v-ix.  xii, 
xiv-xviii,     xx-xxxiv.    xxxvii, 

XXXVIII.  XLII-XLV,  XLVII,  XLVIII. 

BLANCOVE,  EDW.\RD— Rhoda 
Fleming:  i.  v-xii,  xvi,  xviii,  xx- 

XXIX,  xxxi-xxxvui,  XLI,  xmi- 

XLAail. 

BLANCOVE.  SQUIRE— Rhoda 
Fleming:  i.  vi.  viii.  xv,  x^^II, 

XXVI,  XXXII.   XXXVIII,   XLI. 

BLANCOVE,  SIR  WILLIAM— 
Rhoda  Fleming:  vi,  viu,  xi,  xii, 

XVI,       XXI,       XXII,       XXV,       XXVI, 
XXXI-XXXIV,       XXXVI,       XXXVII. 

XLII,  XL^^II. 
BLANDISH,  LADY  EMMELINE 
— Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel:  i, 

IV.  XI-XVI,  XX,  XXII-XXV,  XXVIII, 

XXX,  XXXI 1 1 -XXX  VIU,     XL,     XLI, 
XLIV,   XLV. 

BLASS-GESELL— Farina:  xi.  xii. 

BLATHENOY,  JACOB— One  of 

Our  Conquerors:   ix,   xiu,   xx- 

XXII,    XXIV,    XXV.   XXX,    XXXI. 

BLATHENOY.  MRS.— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xvii,  xx-xxii, 

XXIV.  xxv,   XXIX-XXXII. 

BOB — Evan  Harrington:  xiii. 

BOBINIKENE,  M.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xix,  xli. 

BODDY— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  xlviii.  liv. 

BOLLOP— Ordeal  of  Richard  Fev- 
erel: III. 

BOLTON,  LADY  BETTY— see 
EDBURY,  MARQUISE  OF. 

BOLTON,  MRS.— see  S\\:EET- 
WINTER,  MABEL. 

BONNER.  JULIANA  —  Evan 
Harrington:  xiv-xix,  xxi,  xxiii- 

XXV,  XXVII.  XXIX-XXXII.  xxxv- 

XLIII,    XLV. 

BONNER,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton: XXVII.  XXXI. 

BONNER,  MRS.— Evan  Har- 
rington: IX,  XIV-x^'lI,  XIX,  xxv, 

XXVII.  XXIX,  XXXII -XXXIV, 
XXXVII-XL,    XLIII. 

BOOLP — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  ii. 

BOON,  JONATHAN— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His   Aminta:   xix. 

BOOTLBAC— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:   XXI-XXIV. 

BOROLICK.  A  L  G  Y  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xx,  xxi 

BOULBY,  DICK— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: XVIII. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


199 


BOULBY,  HARRY  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  xviii,  xix,  xlvi. 

BOULBY,  MRS.— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: XVIII-XXI,  XXIII,  XLIV, 
XLVI. 

BOUTHOIN,  DR.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:     xix,     xxi,    xxiv, 

XXVIII,    XXXVI. 

BOYLE  &  LUCKWORT,  CHEM- 
ISTS— One  of  Our  Conquerors: 

XIII,    XVIII. 

BOYNE,   MR.— Rhoda  Fleming: 

III,    VI. 

BRADDOCK,  THORPE  &  SIM- 
NEL,  SOLICITORS— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xiii,  xiv,  xvil, 

XXIII,  XXIX,  xxxvii. 

BRAILSTONE,  LORD— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  ill,  xv-xvii,  xxiii, 

XXIV,  XXVIII,      XXXIV,      XXXIX, 
XLI,   XLIII-XLVII. 

BRAINTOP  —  Sandra      Belloni: 

XXIV-XXVI,      XXIX,      XXXI-XXXV, 
XXXVII,    XXXVIII,    LIU,   LIV,    LIX. 

BRANCIANI,  COUNT— Sandra 
Belloni:  l-lii;     Vittoria:  xxvi. 

BRANCIANI,  COUNTESS— San- 
dra Belloni:  L-iai. 

BRANKSBURNE,  MARY— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  xxxii. 

BRAWNLEY,  MR.— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  vi. 

BRAYDER,  HONORABLE  PE- 
TER—Ordeal  of  Richard  Fev- 
erel:       XXXIV-XXXVI,        xxxix, 

XLUI. 

BREEKS,  MRS.— Sandra  Belloni: 

VIII,    XI. 

BRIDES  OF  AKLIS— see  AKLIS. 
BRIDES  OF. 

BRIDGENORTH— Diana  of  the 

Cro-ssways:  xxvi. 

BRIDGES,  MRS.— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xii. 

BRISBY— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  xlii. 

BRISBY — Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:  VIII,  XI. 

BRISK,  REVEREND  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xvii. 

BROADMEAD,  FARMER  — 
Evan  Harrington:  xi-xiii,  xvii. 


BRONCINI,  COUNT— Vittoria: 
IX,  xxvi. 

BROWNSON,  JOHNNY— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xix. 

BROWNY-see  FARREL,  AMIN- 
TA. 

BRUNHILD— Farina:  n, 

BULSTED,  GREGORY— Adven- 
tures of  Harry  Richmond:  ix,  x, 
XIX,  XXXVI -xxxviii. 

BULSTED,  CAPTAIN  WILLIAM 
—Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond:   IX,    X,     XV,    xvni-xx, 

XXXVII-XLI,     XLIII,     XLVI,     XLIX, 
LIU,    LV,    LVI. 

BULSTED,  MRS.  WILLIAM— 
see  RIPPENGER,  JULIA. 

BURDOCK.  WILL— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: XI. 

BURGIN,  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxiii,  xxxvii, 

LIU. 

BURLEY  —  Evan     Harrington: 

XVIII,  XXI. 

BURNLEY,  LORD  ALFRED— 
Beauchamp's      Career:      xxvi, 

XLII. 

BURT,     MR.— Rhoda     Fleming: 

III,  VI. 

BURT,  MARY— Rhoda  Fleming: 
I. 

BUSBY,  LORD— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xxx. 

BUSBY,  ROBERT— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xxx. 

BUSRAC,  EBN  —  Shaving  of 
Shagpat:  iv. 

BUSSHE,    LADY— Egoist:    ii-v, 

XVII,  XXV,  XXIX,  XXXIV-XXXVII, 
XLI,  XLIII-L. 

BUSSHE,  LORD  JOHN— Egoist: 

XVII. 

BUTTERMORE,  REVEREND 
GROSEMAN— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: VII,  XIII,  XIV,  XXIX, 
XXXI,  XXXVI,  XXXIX,  XL. 

BUXLEY,  EDWARD— Sandra 
Belloni:   i,   ii,    xv-xvii,   xxvii, 

XXIX,    XXXI,    XLII. 

BUXTON,  DR.— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xiv. 

BYSTOP— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  vi. 


200 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


CADDIS,  MR.— One  of  Our  Con-  i 
querors:  XX,  xxi,  xxxvi.  | 

CADWALLADER  —  Amazing  | 
Marriage:  xxxiv. 

CALLET,    MADAME     ARMAN-    > 
DIXE— One    of    Our    Conquer- 
ors: III,  ^^II,  IX,  XIII,  XIV,  xxi, 
xxii,  xxx-sT,  xxxix. 

CALLIANI,  GIULIO— Lord  Or- 
mont  and  His  Aminta:  xii,  xxx. 

CAMERON,  MRS.— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  L.  I 

CAMILLA — Vittoria:    xvii,    xix-    ; 

XXI,  XXII,  XXV,  XXXI,  XXXII,  XL.      I 

CAMPA,  VITTORIA— see  BEL-  i 
LONl,  EMILIAj  ALESSAN-  i 
DRA.  I 

CAMPER,     LADY     ANGELA— 
Case  of  General  Ople  and  Lady    1 
Camper:  i-%aii.  ; 

CAMPER.  SIR  SCROPE— Case  i 
of  General  Ople  and  Lady  I 
Camper:  i,  n.  ! 

CAJ^^■ELL,  AUGUSTUS— Tale  j 
of  Chloe:  ii,  iv,  v-vaii,  x.  ! 

CANTOR,  LADY— One  of  Our  i 
Conquerors:  xx^^. 

CAPES,  MR.— Egoist:  xxxv. 

CAPES,  SIR  JOHN  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  xvi,  xxi,  xxii,  xxiv. 

CAPPERSTON,  SIR  WALTER 
— Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xiv. 

CARDI,  PIETRO— Vittoria:  xv, 
xxix. 

CAREY,   LORD   AND  LADY— 

Rhoda  Fleming:  xxil. 
CARIGNY— Adventures  of  Harry 

Richmond:  xxxii,  xuv. 
CARLING.     MR.— One    of    Our 

Conquerors:  iv,  vi,  ■v^I,  xii,  xiii, 

XIX,    XXI,    XXII,    xxx,    xxxi, 

XXXVI,    XXXIX,    XLII. 

CARLING,  MRS.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  'Nil. 

CARLO  ALBERTO  —  see 
CHARLES  ALBERT. 

CARMINE,  LADY— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xx,  xxi. 

CARNISCHI— Vittoria:    xxxi. 

CARPENDIKE,  MR.  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xix,  xx. 

CARR,  LORD  ALONZO— Adven- 
tures of  Harry  Richmond;  xlvii. 


CARRINGTON,  LOUISA— Evan 
Harrington:  xiv,  xix-xxi,  xxiv, 
xx■\^I,  xxx-xxxii,  xxx\T, 
xxxvii,  xu. 

CARSTAIRS— Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  xxiii,  xxix. 

CARTHEW,  MRS.  —  Amazing 
Marriage:  xiii,  xiv,  xx. 

CASELDY,  SIR  MARTIN— Tale 
of  Chloe:  ii-x. 

CATHAIRN,  LADY— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xx. 

CATKIN— One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors: IV,  XIV,  XV,  XVIII,  XX,  XXII, 

XXV,  XXXIII,  xxx-iT,  xx. 
CATMAN— Adventures  of  Harry 

Richmond:  v,  'vt. 
CAUSITT,    DR.    PETER— Lord 

Ormont  and  His  Aminia:  xvi. 
CA\'E:LY,  MARTHA— House  on 

the  Beach:  i-xii. 
CAWTHORNE.     DR.— Amazing 

Marriage:  ii,  ill. 
CHARLES— Evan  Harrington:  v. 
CHARLES  ALBERT,  KING  OF 

SARDINIA — Vittoria:  i,  ii,  iv, 

V.     ■^^II,     xxx-xxxii,     xxxiv- 

XXX\1II,  XLI-XLV. 

CHARNER.  DANIEL— Amazing 
Marriasre:  xlv. 

CHASSEDIANE,  JENNIE— Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry   Richmond: 

XXXII,      XXXYJU,      XXXIX,      XLI- 
XLIV. 

CHAUNTER  —  Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xi. 

CHECCO— Vittoria:  x,  xvi. 

CHERSON,  MRS.  FERDINAND 
— Diana  of  the  Crossways: 
xx^^I . 

CHESSINGTON— EgoLst:  xxxiv. 

CHIALLO.  CAPTAIN— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta:  xii,  xxv. 

CHICKLEY,  MRS.— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  xxv. 

CHIEF,  THE — Vittoria:  i-%a.\an, 
x-xii,  xv-x^^II,  xxiv,  xxxu, 
xxx,   xxxv-xxx■^^I,    xl,   xliii, 

XLIV. 

CHILLINGWORTH,  LADY 
CHARLOTTE  —  Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  X,  XIV,  xv,  x^^Il,  xix, 
xxiii,  xx^T,  xx^^II,  xxx- 
xxx^^I,    XL,    ■x.uvz,    l,    lii-liv, 

hVl-LXJU. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


201 


CHIPPS.    MR.— Sandra    Belloni: 

XXI,    XXII. 

CHIUSE,  VINCENTINO— Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  xii. 

CHLOE— .see  MARTINSWARD 
CATHERINE. 

CHRIMHILD— Farina:  ii. 

CHUMP,  MARTHA— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: IV,  V,  Vll,  XIV-XVII,  XIX, 
XXI-XXIII,     X1CV1I,     XXIX,     XXXI- 

XXXVII,  XLII,    LIII-LVI,    LIX. 

CHUMP,    MR.— Sandra    Belloni: 

XV,  XVI,  XIX, XXIV,  XXXII, XXXIII, 
XLII,    LIV. 

CLANCONAN,  LORD— One  of 
Our   Conquerors:   xxvii,   xxix- 

XXXI,    XXXV. 

CLEMENCE,  MADAME— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  xi. 

CLIFFORD,  DR.  — Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xii,  xx,  xxiii- 

XXV. 

CLUNGEON,    JIMMY— Tale    of 

Chloe:  v. 
COGGLESBY,  ANDREW— Evan 

Harrington:    iii-v,    \ai-ix,    xiv, 

XVIII-XXXI,   XXXIII,  XXXVII-XLI, 
XLIV,  XLVI,   XL\al. 

COGGLESBY,  MRS.  HARRIET 
— Evan  Harrington:ini,  v,  vii-ix, 

XIII,  XIV,  XIX,  XX,  xxv;  xxvii, 

XXXVIII,  XL,     XLI,     XLIV,     XLVI, 
XLVII. 

COGGLESBY,  TOM— Evan  Har- 
rington: V,  \JU,  XI,  XII,  XVII, 
XVIII,  XXV-XXXII,  XXXVI, 

XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XLI,  XLIV,  XLVI, 
XLVII. 

DE  COL,  DUCHESSE  DA  ROS- 
TA — Evan   Harrington:   xxi. 

DE  COL,  MARQUISE— Evan 
Harrington:  ix. 

COLEWORT— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: XLI. 

COLLESTON,  MARQUIS  OF— 
Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta: 

XVI. 

COLLETT— Lord  Ormont  and 
His     Aminta:     i,    xviii,    xxiv, 

XXVI,    XXVIII,   XXX. 

COLLETT,  SELINA— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta:  i,  vi,  x, 

XIV,  XVIII,       XXI,       XXIII-XXVI, 
XXVIII,    XXX. 

COLLETT,  MRS.— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xxvii,  xxviii, 

XXX. 


COLUMELLI  —  Amazing  Mar- 
riage:      XXVIII,     XXXIX,     XLVII. 

COMBLEMAN,  ADMIRAL  — 
Evan  Harrington:  i,  iii,  ix,  xiii. 

CONLEY,  FARMER— Evan  Har- 
rington: XXX. 

CONLEY,  MISSES— Evan  Har- 
rington: XXX,  XXXI. 

CONNING,  MARIA— Evan  Har- 
rington: XIII,  XIV,  XIX,  XXI, 
XXIX,   XXXIII,   XXXVII. 

CONSTANTINE,    PRINCE  — 

Tragic  Comedians:  i. 
CONRAD,      KAISER  —  Farina: 

XIV. 

COOP,  JANE  —  Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xii. 

COOP,  MARTHA  MARY— Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  xii. 

COOP,  ROBERT— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xii. 

COPLEYS,  THE— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: III,  XIX,  XXI,  XXVII. 

COPPING,  SQUIRE  AND  MRS. 
— Evan  Harrington:  xxii. 

COPPING,  TOM— Evan  Harring- 
ton: XIII,  XX. 

CORBY,  SIR  MEESON— Amaz- 
ing   Marriage:    vii-ix,    xi,    xii, 

XX,    XXIII,    XXIV,    XXXV,    XXXIX, 
XU,  XLV,  XLVII. 

CORFE,  COLONEL— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xx,  xxi,  xxxvi. 

CORMYN,  DR.  JOHN  AND  MRS. 
— One  of  Our  Conquerors:    iv, 

VIII,     IX,     XI,      XVIII,     XX,     XXII, 
XXIV,  xxv,  XXXVI-XXXVIII,    XL, 

XLI. 

CORNEY,    DR.— Egoist:    x,   xv, 

XIX,    XXVI,    XXVII,    XXXII,    XLII, 
XLIV,-XLVII,    L. 

CORTE,  UGO— Vittoria:  i-v,  vii, 

XII,     XVIII,     XXX,     XXXI,     XXXIV, 
XXXVI,    XL-XLIV,    XLVI. 

COUGHAM— Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer:  XVI,   XVIII-XX. 

COURTNEY,  MISS— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xxviii. 

COWRY,  LADY— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XII,  xxm,  xxviii,  XLV. 

COXWELL,— Evan    Harrington: 

VII,    XXVI. 

CRANE,  LORD  AND  LADY— 
Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xiv. 

CREEDMORE,  LORD— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xv,  xix. 


202 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


VON  CREFELDT,  BARONESS 
LUCIE  —  Tragic  Comedians  : 
n,  V,  vii-xv,  x^^I,  xix. 

CRESSETT,  COUNTESS  FAN- 
NY— Amazing     Marriage:     i-v, 

XII,  XIII,  XV,  XXIIl,  XXV,  XXVI, 
XXIX,    XXXV,   XXXIX,   XLIV. 

CRESSETT,  JR.— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: IX,  XI,  XII,  XXXV,  XXXIX, 
XLI,  XLIII,  XLVI,  XL'Sai. 

CRESSETT.  EARL  OF— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  i-iii. 

VON  CRESTOW,  COUNT  AND 
COUNTESS— Tragic  Comedi- 
ans: II,  V. 

CRICKLEDON— House  on  the 
Beach:  ii-v,  vii,  xi. 

CRICKLEDON,  MRS.— House  on 
the  Beach:  iii-\aii,  xi. 

DE  CROISNEL,  COMTE  CRES- 
NES — Beauchamp's  Career:  v- 
IX,       XI,       xxiii-xxv,       xxxiv, 

XXX Vll,    XLI. 

DE  CROISNEL,  RENE'E— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  v-xi,  xiii,  xix- 

XX'VT,  XXX,  XXXII,  XXXIV, 
XXXVII,  XXXIX-XL-\T,  XLVIII,  U, 
LII,    LV. 

DE  CROISNEL,  CAPTAIN  RO- 
LAND— Beauchamp's  Career: 
v-x,  xxIII-xx^^,  xxxiv,  xxxvii, 

XXXIX-XLIII,    XLV,    LV. 

CROOKLYN,  PROFESSOR  — 
Egoist:  XXVII,  xxix,  xxx- 
xxx^^II,  XLI, 

CROOM,  JACOB— Egoist:  xxvi. 

CROYSTON,  LADY—  Beau- 
champ's Career:  lv. 

CROYSTON.  LORD  —  Beau- 
champ's Career;  xxxu,  xxxvii, 

LV. 


!    CRUCHI,    JACOPO— Vittoria: 

XXV,   XXVI,   XXVIII,   XLVI. 

CRUCHI.     ROSETTA— Vittoria: 

XXV. 

CRUMMINS.  NED— House  on 
the  Beach:  ii. 

CUFF,  COLONEL  EVANS— 
Beauchamp's  Career:  xi. 

CULBRETT,  STUKELY— Beau- 
champ's  Career:   i-iii,   xi,   xiv. 

XVII,  XX,  XXI,  XXVI,  XXXIII, 
XXXV-XXXVIII,  XLIII,  XLIV,  XLIX, 
LV. 

CULLING,  MR.— Beauchamp's 
Career;  i,  ii,  ix,  x,  xiv. 

CULLING,  ROSAMUND— Beau- 
champ's Career:  i-v,  \aii,  ix, 
xi-xiv,  x^^I,  xxii,  xxv,  xx\t, 
xxviii,     xxx,     xxxIII-xxx^^I, 

XXXIX-XLV,   XL\1I1-LIII,   LV,   L\T. 

DE   CULME,    LADY"— Lord   Or- 

mont  and  His  Aminta:  xi-xiii. 
CULMER,  LADY— Egoist:  n,  v, 

X,  XXIX,  XXXIV,  XXXVI,  xxxvu, 
XLIII-XL^I. 

CUMNOCK,  CAPTAIN— Lord  Or- 
mont  and   His    Aminta;    x■^^II- 

XXI. 

CUPER,  MR.— Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  i,  ii.  iv.  v,  ix,  xi- 

XIII,  XXIV,  XX\T. 

CURATE  OF  LOBOURNE— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  iv.  xiii, 

XV. 

CURRENT,  ISABELLE— Evan 
Harrington:  xvi,  xviii,  xxii. 
XXIV,  XXIX,  xxx.  xxxiii, 
xxx^^I. 

CURRIE.  FRED  —  Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xxxiv. 

CURTIS,  DICK— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: x\nii,  xxiii. 


D 


DACIER,  LADY— Diana  of  the 
Cross  ways:  x\^I,  xix,  xx^ii. 

DACIER,  LORD— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xix,  xx. 

DACIER,  PERCY— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xiv-XLi,  xliii. 

D.ALE,  L^TITIA— Egoist:  ii-iv, 

VI-XI,  XIII-XX,    XXII-XXV,   XXVII. 

xxix-xxxiv,  xxx\^-L. 
DALE,    MR. — Egoist:    ii-iv.    x, 
XIII-x^^.    xxxiii,    xxxix,    xl, 

XLII-XL\T,  XLVIII,  XLIX. 


DANCE,     ARTHUR— Diana     of 

the  Crossways:  xi. 
DANDY — Evan  Harrington:  vii. 

IX,    XXVI. 

DANMORE,  LADY— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta:  xxix. 

DANNISBURGH,  LORD— Di- 
ana of  the  Crossways:  i,  vi,  vii, 
XIV,  x-\T-xxi,  xx^^,  xx^ai,  xxxv. 
xu. 

DANNY,  MR.— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: XXI. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


203 


DANVERS— Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:  IX,  XI-XIII,  XXII,  XXIV- 
XXVII,  XXIX,  XXX,  XXXII,  XXXVI, 
XXXVIII-XL,   XLII,   XLIII. 

DARLETON,        LUCY— Egoist: 

XXI-XXV,  XXVII,  XLVII. 

DARLEY,  ABSWORTHY  AND 

MISSES  —  Ordeal    of    Richard 

Feverel:  xviii. 
DARLINGTON,      GENERAL— 

Egoist:  XXIV,  xxv. 
DARTFORD,        LORD— Sandra 

Belloni:  x. 

DE      DARTIGUES,      COMTE— 

Evan  Harrington:  v. 
DAUPHIN,  THE— Adventures  of 

Harry  Richmond:  xlii. 
DAVENPORT.       MOLLIE— Or- 
deal   of    Richard    Feverel:    xx, 

XXII,  xxiii,  xxv. 
DAVIS — Adventures     of     Harry 

Richmond:  vi. 
DAyiS — Adventures     of     Harry 

Richmond:  ix. 
DAVIS,       MOTHER  —  Amazing 

Marriage:  xxv. 
DAVIS  —  Beauchamp's      Career: 

XIX,   XX. 

DE  CRAYE,  LIEUTENANT 
HORACE— Egoist:  x,  xi,  xiii, 

XVII-XXVI,      XXVIII-XLIV,      XLVI- 
XLVIII,    L. 

DEHORS,  ARMAND— Egoist:  x. 

DELZENBURG,  COUNT— see 
ERNEST. 

DELZENBURG,  COUNTESS  OF 
—see  OTTILIA,  PRINCESS. 

DENEWDNEY,  LADY— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:   xxi, 

XXII. 

DENHAM,  HARRY  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxviii,  l,  liv, 

LVI. 

DENHAM,  JENNY  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xi,  xii,  xix, 
XXVII,  XXIX,  XXX,  xxxii, 
XXXIII,  XXXV,  XXXIX,  XLII,  XLV, 
XLVIII-LVI. 

DERING,  CUTHBERT— Diana 
of  the  Crossways:  xxiv,  xxxviii, 

XLII. 

DERRY,    JACK— Diana    of    the 

Crossways:  in. 
DESBAROLLES.      M.— Advent- 
ures     of       Harry      Richmond: 

XXXII. 


DESBOROUGH,  COLONEL— 
Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel:  xx, 

XXIII. 

DESBOROUGH,  LUCY— Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel:  viii,  ix,  xi, 

XIV,  XV,  XIX-XXIII,  XXV-XXXII, 
XXXIV,    XXXV,    XXXVII-XLV. 

DESBOROUGH,  MRS.— Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel:  xxx. 

DESPRES,  M.— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  xt,v. 

DESTRIER,  LORD  —  Advent- 
ures of   Harry   Richmond:   xx, 

XXIII,      XXXIX,      XL-XLV,      XLVII, 

XLIX,  LV,  LVI. 

DETTERMAIN,— Adventures  of 
Harry    Richmond:    xxiv,    xxv, 

XXVII,   XXXIX,    XLI,  XLIV,   XLVII. 

DEVEREUX,  LOUISE  WAR- 
DOUR — Beauchamp's     Career: 

XIX-XXII,  XXXIII,  XXXVII-XXXIX, 
XLII,  XLV,  XLVIII,  XLIX,  LI,  LII, 
LVI. 

DEVEREUX,  WARDOUR— 
Beauchamp's  Career:  xx,  xxi, 

XXXIII,    XXXVIII. 

DE  WITT,  CAPTAIN  JORIAN— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond: XXI-XXIII,  XXXII,  XXXIX, 
XLI-XLIV,   XLVII,    L-Lin. 

DE  WITT,  BRAMHAM— Advent- 
ures of   Harry  Richmond:  xli, 

XLII,   XLVII. 

DEWLAP,  DUCHESS  OF— Tale 
of  Chloe:  i-vin,  x. 

DEAVLAP,  DUKE  OF— Tale  of 
Chloe:  1^111,  X. 

DEWSBURY,  ANASTASIA  — 
Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond: XXIII,  XXXIX,  LII,  LIII. 

DEWSBURY,  ELIZABETH— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond:  XXXIX. 

DIANA  OF  THE  CROSSWAYS— 
see  WARWICK,  DIANA  AN- 
TONIO. 

DICK — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  iv. 

DICKETT— Beauchamp's  Career: 
xxx. 

DISHER,  AUGUSTUS— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  xlvii. 

DISHER,  DOLLY— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xlvii. 

DISHER,  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xlvii. 


204 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


VON  DITTMARSCH,  CAPTAIN 
— Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond: XLvii,  XL^^^I. 

VON  DITTMARSCH,  MRS.— see 
_SIBLEY,  LUCY. 

DOB — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  xxi- 

XXIV. 

DOLCHESTER,  LADY— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  XLI. 

DOLLIKINS — Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: XX,  XXI. 

DOLOROSO.  DON— Evan  Har- 
rington: IV. 

DORIA,  MISS— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  xxxv. 

DOUBLE,  JOSEPH— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xi-xiv. 

DOUBLEDAY— Evan  Harring- 
ton: ^^I. 

DOVILI,     ANGELO  —  Vittoria: 

XV. 

DREIGHTON,  COLONEL  SEL- 
WIN — One  of  Our  Conquerors: 

XI. 

DREW — .Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  v,  vi,  xiii. 

DREW,  JOHN  THOMAS— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xi. 

DUBBIN— Evan  Harrington:  xiv, 

DUBBLESON— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: XLI. 

DUCIE,  VIVIAN— Beauchamp's 
Career:  xix,  xxiv-xxvi. 

DUFFIAN,  HONORABLE  AND 
REVEREND  HERBERT— 
Evan  Harrington:  XL,  xliv, 
Xhvi,  XL■\^I. 

DUFFIELD,  LORD— Amazing 
Marriage:  m. 


DULAC,  LORD  AND  LADY— 
Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xxv. 

DUMP.  CHARLES  —  Amazing 
Marriage:  il,  ill. 

DUMP,  MARY— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: III. 

DUNSTANE,  CAPTAIN  LUKEN 
—Diana  of   the  Crossways:   ii- 

VIII,  XII-XIV,  XVIII,  XIX,  xxi, 
XX\T,  XXV^I,  xxxvi,  XXXVII, 
XXXIX-XLIII. 

DUNSTANE,  LADY  EMM  A— Di- 
ana of  the  Crossways:  ii-xxi, 
xxIII-xx^^I,  xxix-xxxi,  xxxvi- 

XLIII. 

DUPERTUY,  MADAME  — Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond: 
xxxn. 

DURANCE,  COLNEY— One  of 
Our     Conquerors:     i,     iii-xxv, 

XXVII-XXIX,    XXXI,    XXXV-XLII. 

DURANDARTE— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:    xx,    xxi,    xxxvi, 

XLI. 

DURHAM,  CONSTANTIA— Ego- 
ist: I-III,  VI,  VII,  IX,  X,  XII,  XVI, 

XXI,   xxn,   XXIV,   XXIX,   xxxv- 

XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XLII,  XLV. 

DURHAM,  SIR  JOHN— Egoist: 
III. 

DURIETTE,  M.— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xv. 

DUVIDNEY,  MISSES  DORO- 
THEA AND  VIRGINIA— One 
of  Our  Conquerors:  \iii,  x\aii, 
XIX,      xxii-xxvi,      xxviii-xxx, 

XXXIII,  XXXIV,  xxxvi,  XXXVII, 
XL. 

DYKES.  MAJOR— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xix. 


E 


ECCLES,     JONATHAN— Rhoda 
Fleming:  xiv,  x\ai-xxiv. 

ECCLES,       ROBERT  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  i,  ii,  iv,  v,  vii,  ix,  x, 

XIII,  XV,  XVII-XXV,  XXX,    XXXII, 
XXXIII,  XXXV-XXXIX.  XLI- 

XLVIII . 

ECKERTHY,  TOM— Adventures 
of     Harry     Richmond:     vii-ix, 

XXIII,  XL,  XLIII. 

EDBURY,  LADY  MARIA— Ad- 
ventures of   Harry   Richmond: 

XXXIX,     XLI,     XLII,     XLIV,     XLV, 
XLIX,    LIU. 


EDBURY,  MARCHIONESS  OF 
—see  SERENA,  MARCHION- 
ESS OF  EDBURY. 

EDBURY,  MARQUIS  THE  EL- 
DER— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  xliv,  liv. 

EDBURY,  MARQUIS  THE 
YOUNGER— see  DESTRIER, 
LORD. 

EDELSHEIM,  MAJOR— Advent- 
ures     of      Harry      Richmond: 

XXXII. 

EDWARDS,  HOWELL — Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  xx^^II-xxxI^. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


205 


EGLETT,  LADY  CHARLOTTE 
— Lord  Ormont  and  His  Amiii- 
ta:    ii-xi,     xiii-xvii,    xx-xxvi, 

XXVIII-XXX. 

EGLETT,  MR.— Lord  Ormont, 
and   His    Aminta:    ii,    iii,   xm, 

XXII,    XXIII,    XXV,    XXVI. 

EIGHTEENTHCENTURY.THE 
—see  GRANTLEY,  GREAT- 
AUNT. 

ELBURNE,  COUNTESS— Evan 
Harrington:  xxv,  XL,  xliii. 

ELDRITCH.  LADY— Amazing 
Marriage:     xii,     xxili,     xxvill, 

XLV. 

ELECTOR.  AND  ELECTRESS 
OF  BAVARIA— Farina:  vi. 

ELLING,  LADY— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing:  XVI,  XXIV,  XXVII. 

ELLING,  LORD— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: VI,  XI,  XVI,  XXI,  XXII,  XXIV. 

ELSEA,  LADY  —  Beauchamp's 
Career:  xxxix,  xliv. 

ELTHAM,  LORD— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  Lvii,  lviii. 

EL  RASOON— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:  XXII. 

EL   ZOOP— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

XXII. 

EMERLY,      MADAME  —  Tragic 

Comedians:  viii. 
EMILIO — Vittoria:  xxxvii,  xliv. 
EMPSON— Lord  Ormont  and  His 

Aminta:  xiii. 
ENCHANTRESS,    T  H  E  —  see 

MOUNT,  BELLA. 


ENDERMAN,  FRANZ— Farina: 
I. 

ENDOR,  LADY— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: Xll,  XXIII,  XXVIII,  XLV. 

ENRICO— Vittoria:  xliv. 

VON  EPPENWELZEN,  MAR- 
SHAL ALBRECHT  WOHLGE- 
MUTH— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  xv-xviii,  xxiv, 
xxvii . 

ERNEST,  PRINCE  OF  EPPEN- 
WELZEN-SARKELD-Ad- 
ventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 
XIV-XVII,  XIX,  xxv-xxviii, 
XXXI-XXXVI,  XXXVIII,  XL,  XLI. 
XLIII-XLV,  XLVIII-LIII,  LVI. 

ESQUART,  LADY— Diana  of  the 

Cro.ssways:  xiv-xvi,  xviii,  xxil, 

xxv,    XXVII,    XXVIII. 

ESQUART,  LORD— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xiv-xvi,  xviii,  xxv, 

XXVII. 

ETHERELL,  CHARLES— Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry    Richmond: 

XLIV,  XLVII. 

EUGENE— Vittoria:  xi,  xv. 

EVELEEN— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond:  vii,  xlvi. 

EVREMONDE,  EVELYN— Evan 
Harrington:     xviii-xxii,    xxiv, 

xxv,   XXVII,   XXX-XXXIV. 

EVREMONDE,  CAPTAIN  LAW- 
SON — Evan   Harrington:   xxx, 

XXXI,   XXXIV. 

EZNOL,  ABOO— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:  XXIV. 


FAKENHAM.  ADMIRAL  BALD- 
WIN— Amazing    Marriage:     ii, 

III,  VI,  VII,  XI-XIII,  XV,  XIX- 
XXII. 

FAKENHAM,    CURTIS— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  ii,  iii. 

FAKENHAM,      G  EOF  FRY— 

Amazing  Marriage:  ii. 
FAKENHAM,      HENRIETTA— 

Amazing    Marriage:    iii,    v-vii, 

IX-XIII,  XV,  XVII,  XIX.  XX,  XXII- 
XXVIII,  XXX,  XXXV,  XXXVI, 
XXXIX,   XLIII-XLVII. 

FAKENHAM.  COUNTESS  LIV- 
lA — Amazing  Marriage:   iii,   v, 

VII-XIII,  XVII,  XIX-XXVIII,  XXXV, 
XXXIX-XLI,    XLIII,    XLV-XLVII. 


FALARIQUE,  M.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xix,  xxiv,  xxviii, 

XLI. 

FALMOUTH  —  Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xlii,  xliii. 

FANNING,  GENERAL— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  ix. 

FANNING,  MRS.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xvil,  xx,  xxi,  xxiv, 
xxx  VI. 

FARINA — Farina:  i-xvii. 

FARINA,  FRAU— Farina:  vi. 
vii. 

FARNLEY,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton: XXXI. 

FARRELL,  AMINTA— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta:  i-xxx. 


206 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


FARRELL.  CAPTAIN  ALGER- 
NON— Lord  Ormont  and  His 
Aminta:  vi. 

FARUGINO— Vittoria:  xv. 

FEATHERDENE  —  Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  iv. 

FECKELWITZ,  JACOB  BAUM- 
WALDER — Vittoria:  xiii,  xxv- 

XXVIII,  XXXIX,   XLII,  XLV. 

FEIL — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  xxii, 

XXIII. 

FELLE,  LADY  JUDITH— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  xxxiv, 

XXXIX,  XLI,  XLII. 

FELLE.  LORD— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  xxxiv,  xlii. 

FELLINGHAM.  GENERAL— 
House  on  the  Beach:  viii,  ix, 

XI. 

FELLINGHAM,  HERBERT— 
House  on  the  Beach:  ii-xii. 

FELLINGHAM,  MARY— House 
on  the  Beach:  ix-xii. 

FELTRE,  LORD— Amazing  Mar- 
riage:  XXI,   XXII,   xx\^-xxvIII, 

XXXIII,         XXXVII-XLIV,  XL.VI, 

XLVII. 

FENBIRD  &  J.A.Y,  CHEMLSTS— 
One  of  Our  Conquerors:  xiii. 

FENCASTER,  MARCHIONESS 
GRACEY — Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  xii. 

FENELLAN,  CAPTAIN  DART- 
REY — One  of  Our  Conquerors: 
iv-vi,   X,   XV,   x^T,   x\aii,   xix, 

XXI,  XXIV,  XXV,  XXVII,  XXIX- 
XLII. 

FENELLAN,  GENERAL— One 
of  Our  Conquerors:  xix. 

FENELLAN,  MRS.  HENNEN— 
One  of  Our  Conquerors:  ni,  xix, 

XXV. 

FENELLAN,  SIMEON— One  of 
Our    Conquerors:    i-ix,    xi-xiv, 

X\T,  XVII,  XIX,  XXI,  XXII,  XXIV, 
XXV,  XXXI,  XXXIII,  XXXV- 
XXXVII,  XXXIX-XLII. 

FENN,  LAURA— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  xxxviii. 

FENN,  MR.— Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:  XXI. 

FENNELL,  MASON— Amazing 
Marriage:  xxxiv. 

FERBRASS,  MR.— Beauchamp's 
Career:  x%iii,  xx. 

FERN.\WAY,       JONATHAN— 

iigoist:  xxv^. 


FESHNAVAT.  VIZIER— Shav- 
ing of  Shagpat:  i,  la,  v,  vi,  viii- 

XI,    XIV,    XVI,    XVIII-XXIV. 

FETTLE,  SIMON— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: II. 

FEVEREL,  CAPTAIN  ALGER- 
NON—Ordeal  of  Richard  Fev- 
erel: I,  IV,  \1II,  X-XII,  XV,  XXIII, 

XXV,  xx\T,  xx^^II, XXXII, XXXIV, 

XXX\1I. 

FEVEREL,  SIR  AUSTIN  ABS- 
WORTHY  BERNE— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  i,  ii,  iv-xviii, 

XX-XX\^,   XXVIII-XLI,   XLIII-XLV. 

FEVEREL,  L  I  E  U  T  E  N  A  NT 
CUTHBERT— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  i. 

FEVEREL,  HIPPIAS— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  i,  iv,  x,  xii, 
XX,  XXIII,  xxv,  xx^T,  xx^^II, 
xxix,      xxxu-xxxiv,      XXXVII, 

XLI,    XLIV. 

FEVEREL,  LADY— Ordeal  of 
Richard   Feverel:   i,   xii,   xxiv, 

XXX\TI,   XXXVIII,    XL,    XLI. 

FE^'EREL,  LUCY— see  DES- 

BOROUGH,  LUCY. 
FEVEREL,  SIR  PYLCHER— 

Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel;  xvil. 
FE\"EREL,   RICHARD   DORIA 

— Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel:  i- 

XLV. 

FEVEREL,  RICHARD  II— Or- 
deal  of   Richard   Feverel:    xli- 

XLV. 

FEVEREL.  VIVIAN— Ordeal  of 

Richard  Feverel:  i. 
FINCHLEY,  IS.\BELLA  — Lord 

Ormont  and    His    Aminta:     iii, 

VI-\1II,   X-XV,   XVII,    XIX,    XXIII, 
xxv,    XXX. 

FINCHLEY,  LAWRENCE— 
Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta: 
III,  -^aii,  XV,  XXX. 

FISKE,  ANNE— Evan  Harring- 
ton:  II,  VU,  IX,   XX'ST. 

FISKE,         BARTHOLOMEW— 

Evan  Harrington:  vii. 
FITZGERALD,    JUDGE— Diana 

of  the  Crossways:  xxx. 
FLATSCHMANN,  COLONEL  — 

Vittoria:  x. 
FLEETWOOD.  COUNTESS— see 

KIRBY,  CARINTHIA  JANE. 
FLEETWOOD,        D  O  ^^"  A  G  E  R 

COUNTESS-see  FAKENHAM. 

COUNTESS  LI VI A. 
FLEETWOOD,    EARL    OF— see 

RUSSETT,  EDWARD. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


207 


FLEISCHER,     ADOLPH— Lord 

Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  xii, 

XXX. 

FLEMING,  DAHLIA  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:      i-xxv,  xxvu-xxxix, 

XLI-XLVIII. 

FLEMING,  RHODA  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  i-xv,  xix,  xxiii,  xxv, 

XXVII,  XXIX-XXXIII,  XXXV- 

XLVIII. 

FLEMING,  SUSAN  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  l-iii,  v,  vil,  ix,  xi, 
xxv,  XLII. 

FLEMING,  WILLIAM  JOHN— 
Rhoda  Fleming:  i-iv,  vii,  ix-xv, 
xix,  xxv,  xxx,  xxxii,  xxxiii, 

XXXV,  XLVII. 

FLIPPER — Amazing      Marriage: 

XV. 

FLITCH,  MR.  and  MRS.— Egoist: 

XI,  XVII-XIX,  XXII,  XXIV,  XXVIII- 
XXX,  XXXIV-XXXVI,  XLIX. 

FLOYER,  MARIANA— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xxxvii. 

FOHRENDORF,  COUNTESS  OF 
—see  AMALIA,  DUCHESS. 

FORD,  GEORGIANA— Sandra 
Belloni:    xxvii,    xxviii,    xxxi, 

XXXII,    XXXIV,    XXXVI,    xxxvii, 
XLI,   XLIII,  XLVI-L,  LIU,    LIV,  LVl, 

Lix.  Vittoria:  xix,  XXXII,  XXXV, 

XXXVIII. 

FOREY,  ANGELICA  and  MA- 
TILDA—Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel:   xxxii. 

FOREY,  BRANDON  and  CLAR- 
ENCE—Ordeal  of  Richard  Fev- 
erel: xxxii. 

FOREY,  CLARE  DOR  I  A— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  i,  iv,  v, 

X-XIV,  XX.  XXVIIl.   XXIX.   XXXII, 
XXXIV,  xxv,   XL,   XLIV,  XLV. 


FOREY,  HELEN  DORIA— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  l,  iv, 

XII-XV,        XXIV,        XXIX,        XXXII, 
XXXIV-XXXVIII,  XL,  XLIV,  XLV. 

FOREY,  MR.— Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel:  xxxii. 

DE  FORMOSA,  DUKE  and 
DUCHESSE  DE  FORTAND- 
IGUA — Evan  Harrington:  iii. 

FORTH,  DRUMMOND— Evan 
Harrington:    xii-xiv,    xvi-xxv, 

XXVII,    XXX-XXXIV,    XLIII. 

FOSTER— Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:   XII. 

FOULKE,  SQUIRE— Evan  Har- 
rington: I. 

FRANCIS — Amazing      Marriage: 

VIII,    IX. 

FRANCO  —  see    R  E  M  A  U  D  , 

FRANK. 

FRANCOIS— Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: VIII. 

FRANKENBAUCH— Farina:  x. 

FREBUTER,  GENERAL 
GEORGE— Evan     Harrington: 

V. 

FRED — Evan  Harrington:  xxvi, 
xxx. 

FREDERICKS,  COLONEL  — 
Sandra  Belloni:  xxxvi. 

FREDERICKA,  PRINCESS  — 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

XVI. 

FREDI— see  RADNOR,  NESTA 
VITTORIA. 

FRIM,  NICHOLAS— Evan  Har- 
rington: XXIII,  XXV,  XXXVIII. 

FRITZ— Farina:  x 


G 


GAINSFORD— Sandra      Belloni: 

XV,   XVI,   LIV,    LV. 

GAMBIER,  CAPTAIN  AUGUS- 
TUS FREDERICK  —  Sandra 
Belloni:    vi,    x-xii,    xviii,    xix, 

XXI,  XXVII,  XXVIII,  XXXI,  XXXIII, 
XXXIV,        XXXVII,        XLII,        XLVI, 

XLVII,  LIU,   LVii.     Vittoria:   vi, 

X,       XVII-XIX,       XXVII,       XXVIII, 

XXXII,  XXXV. 

GAMMON,  MASTER  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  ii.  ^^I,  xiii-xv,  xxv, 

XXXIII,  XXXIX,  XLI-XLIV,   XLVII. 


GANNETT,     DR.— Beauchamp's 

Career:  xlviii-liii. 
GANNIUS,  DELPHICA— One  of 

Our     Conquerors:     xix,     xxiv, 

XXVI,   XXVIII,  XXXVII,   XLI. 

GANNIUS,     DR.— One     of     Our 
Conquerors:  xix,  xxiv,  xxvill, 

XXXVI. 

GARBLE,  DAME— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing:   XVIII. 

GARDNER,     LADY     SUSAN— 
Beauchamp's  Career;  xxvi. 


208 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


GARNER,  MARY— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xx. 

GARRAVEEN— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:     V,     VII,     XI,    XII,    XIV,    XV, 

XVII,  x^^II. 
GELLER,  ERNEST— Farina:  i. 
GIACINTA— Vittoria:      xi,      xx, 

XXII,    XXIII,    XXVI,    XXXI,    XXXV, 
XXXIX,    XLV. 

GIESSLINGER,  KATCHEN— 
Vittoria:  xxiii. 

GIRLING,  JOHN— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  XI. 

GLADDING,  MR.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  ix. 

GLOSSOP,  DR.— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XIII,  XXXIV,  XL,,  XLV, 
XLVII. 

GOODWIN,  CLARA— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  iv, 
XIV,     XV,     xviii-xx,     xxx\^II, 

XL, VII,  XLVIII,  L. 

GOOD-^^aN,  COLONEL  —  Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond: 
IV,     XIV,     xviii-xx,     xxxvaii, 

XLVII,  XLVIII,  L. 

GOORELKA— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:  IX-XII,  XVIII,  XXIII. 

GOREN.  MR.— -Evan  Harrington: 
II,  IV,  V.  ^^I,  IX,  XVI,  xvii,  xx\t, 

XXXVIII-XL. 

GOSHAWK,  THE— see  GUY, 
THE  GOSHAWK. 

GOSLING,  ADELINE— Rhoda 
Fleming:  xvi,  xix,  xx,  xxv. 

GOSLING,  MR.  and  MRS.— Case 
of  General  Ople  and  Lady 
Camper:  ii,  vi,  vil. 

GOSLING,  MRS.— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: XXI,  xxv. 

GOSSIP,  DEBORAH— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  x\aii. 

GOSSTRE,  LADY— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  IV,  v,  \^I,  ix,  x,  xiv,  xv, 
xx^^II,    XXXI,    xxxii,    xxx\t;i, 

XLII,    XL\ai,    LIII,    LIV,    LVl. 

GO^^'EN.  DAVID— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xii. 

GRAATLI,    COUNT  —  Vittoria: 

XIII,    XXVIII. 

GRAATLI,  DUCHESS  OF— see 
AMALIA,  DUCHESS. 

GRAINE.  GORDEN— Evan  Har- 
rington: XVI. 


GRAINE,  JENNIE— Evan  Har- 
rington: XVI-XVIU,  XX,  XXX- 
XXXII. 

DE  GRANDCHAMP,  COLONEL 
COlN  —  Beauchamp's  Career: 
xxv. 

GRANDISON,  CAROLINE— Or- 
deal   of    Richard    Feverel:    xx, 

XXII,  XXIII,  XXVI,  XX\1II,  XXXII. 

GRANTLEY,  GREAT-AUNT  — 
Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel:  i,  ix, 
XX,  XXIII,  xxv,  xx\^I. 

GRAV-ES,  PRISCILLA— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  iv,  viii-xi, 
XIV,  XV,  x\aii,  xx-xxii,  xxiv, 
xxv,  XXXI,  xxxiii,  xxxvi, 
xxx^^II,  xLi,  xlii. 

GREGORY,  FATHER— Farina: 
^^I-x,  xiv-xvii. 

GRENAT,  EMILE— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta:  i,  iv,  v, 
XII,  x^^II,  XXIV,  xxx. 

GRIFFITH,  DR.— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XXXIII. 

GRIST,  MESSRS.,  SOLICITORS 
— Evan        Harrington:        xvii, 

XXXII,  XXXVI,  XLIV. 

VON  GROSCHEN,  FRAU— Fa- 
rina: II. 

VON  GROSCHEN,  GOTTLIEB 
— Farina:  I-\^II,  x,  xiv,  xvii. 

VON  GROSCHEN,  LISBETH— 
Farina:  ii,  iv,  \t-viii,  xiv-xvi. 

VON  GROSCHEN,  MARGA- 
RITA— Farina:    i-\iii,    x,    xii- 

XVII. 

GROSSBY,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton: I,  \T.l. 

GUIDASCARPI,  ANGELO— Vit- 
toria: x^aii,  xix,  XXI,  XXIII- 
XXXI,     xxxiii-xxx^ni,     xxxix, 

XLI-XLIII,   XLVI. 

GUIDASCARPI,  CLELIA— Vit- 
toria: XXIV,  XXXIII. 

GUIDASCARPI,  RENALDO  — 
Vittoria:      x^^II,      xix,      xxiv, 

XXVII,  XXIX-XXXIV,   XLI,   XLIII. 

GULREVAZ— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:  X,  XIv-x^^I,  xx,  xxiv. 

GUNNETT,  AMABEL  FRYAR 
— Diana  of  the  Crossways: 
xx\ai,   xxx\T[,   xxx\ii,   xxxix, 

XIJ,  XLII. 

GUNNETT,  FRAYAR— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xli. 

GUY.  THE  GOSHATVK— Farina: 
iii-iv,  viii,  x-x^^I 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


209 


H 


HABRAL  —  Evan      Harrington: 

XXII. 

HACKBUT,  ANTHONY— Rhoda 
Fleming:    ii-viii,    x,    xii,    xiv, 

XXV,  XXXI,  XXXIII,  XL,  XLII- 
XLVIII. 

HACKLEBRIDGE,  GENERAL 
— Evan  Harrington:  ix. 

HACKMAN— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond:  vi,  vil. 

HALKETT,  CECILIA  —  Beau- 
champ's   Career:    xi,   xiv-xxiv, 

XXVI,  xxviii-xxx,         xxxii. 

XXXVII,    XXXIX,    XLII,    XLIV-LVI. 

HALKETT,  COLONEL  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:   i,   iii,   iv,   xii, 

XIV-XVIII,  XX,  XXII,  XXVI, 
XXVIII-XXX,  XXXII-XXXIX,  XLIII, 
LVI. 

HALL,  CAPTAIN  ROBERT— 
Beauchamp's    Career:    iii,    iv, 

XII,  XXXII. 

HALLEY,  LADY  GRACE— One 
of  Our  Conquerors:  iv,  viii,  ix, 
XI,  xiv-xvi,  xvm,  xxvi,  xxvii, 

XXXI,  XXXV,  xxxvi. 

HALLEY,    LORD— One   of    Our 

Conquerors:  viii,  xviii,  xxv. 
HAMBLE,  MR.— Rhoda  Fleming: 

III,   VI. 

HAMPTON-EVEY,  REVEREND 
STEPHEN— Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  iii,  xiii,  xvii,  xxvi. 

HAPPENWYLL,  GENERAL  — 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

XXXIV. 

HAPPIT— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  vi. 

HARDIST,  CAPTAIN  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xi,  xv. 

HARLEY,  ADRIAN— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  i,  iv-vii,  x- 
xin,      xx-xxvi,      xxix-xxxvi, 

XXXVIII,  XL,  XLl,  XLIV. 

HARLEY,  MRS.  JUSTICE— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  i. 

HARRINGTON,  SIR  ABRA- 
HAM— Evan     Harrington:     iii, 

IX,  XIII,  XVII,  XIX,  XX,  XXVII, 
XXXI,    XXXVII. 

HARRINGTON,  ADMIRAL— 
Evan  Harrington:  xxii. 

HARRINGTON,  EVAN— Evan 
Harrington:  i-XLVii. 


HARRINGTON,  HENRIETTA 
MARIA  DAWLEY— Evan  Har- 
rington: II,  IV,  V,  Vll,  IX.  XIV, 
XVI,  XXII,  XXVI,  XXVII,  XXIX- 
XXXIII,  XXXVII,  XXXVIII,  XLIV, 
XLVI,    XLVri. 

HARRINGTON,  MELCHISE- 
DEC — Evan   Harrington:   i,   ii, 

IV-VII,  XIV,  XIX-XXVI,  XXVIII- 
XXXIII,  XXXVI-XXXVIII,  XLIII, 
XLIV,  XLVI. 

HART,  REVEREND  SIMON— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

IX. 

HARTISTON,  SIR  ABRAHAM 
— Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xxx. 

HARTSWOOD,  COLONEL— Di- 
ana of  the  Crossways:  XLi. 

HARVEY,  WILLIAM  —  Evan 
Harrington:  xv-xviii,  xx,  xxx, 

HATCHFORD,  MARQUIS  OF— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

XLVII. 

HAWKSHAW,  MRS.— Evan  Har- 
rington: XXVI. 

HEDDON,  COLONEL— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:   liv, 

LVI. 

HEDDON,  LIPSCOMBE  —  Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  xviii. 

HEDDON,  LORD— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xviii. 

HEDDON,  LUCY— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  liv,  lvi. 

HEDGES,  ANDREW— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  viii. 

HEINRICH,    KAISER— Farina: 

I-III,   VIII,   X,   XI,   XV,   XVI. 

VON  HELLER— Farina:  in. 
D'HENRIEL,    COMTE    HENRI 
— Beauchamp's    Career:    xxiii- 

XXV,  XXXIX,  XL. 

HEPBURN,    ALEXANDER    — 

Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xxviii, 

XXXIX. 

HERBSTBLUM,  MARTHE— Fa- 
rina: II. 

HERIOT,  WALTER— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  v-ix, 

XX,  XXIII,  XXXVI-XXXIX,  XLIII- 
XLV,   XLIX,   LV,   LVI. 

HERMANN,  PRINCE— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  xxxiv, 

XLIV,   LI-LIII,  LVI. 


210 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


HICKSON.  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxi,  xxii. 

HIGGINSON,  LADY  MARIA— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond:   XXXVT,    XXX\1II,    XLI. 

HILDA   OF   B AYE RN— Farina: 

VI. 

HILL,  BEAUCHAMP— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  xlii, 

XLIII. 

HIPPERDON.  NORMANTON— 
.\dventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

XLIII,   XLIV. 

HIPPONY,  JACK— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xlvii. 


HODGES,  NAT— Evan  Harring- 
ton: XIII,  XX. 

VOM  HOF,  BARON— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xliv. 

VOM  HOF,  ECKART— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  xxxii, 

XL,  L,  LI,  LIU. 

HOLLINGER,  COUNT— Tragic 
Comedians:  xiii,  xiv,  xviii. 

HOLLIS,  JOHN— Beauehamp's 
Career:  v. 

HOLMES   —    Rhoda      Fleming: 

XXXIV. 

HOPPNER,— Egoist:     ix,     xvii, 

XXIX. 


ILCHESTER,  CHARLES— Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry    Richmond: 

VIII,  IX,   XIX,   LIII. 

ILCHESTER,  JANET— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  \iil, 
X,  XII,  x\^II-xx,  xxiii,  XXX, 
xxx■\^-XLV,  XL■^^I-L^^. 

ILCHESTER,  LADY  MARGAR- 
ET —  Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:    viii,   ix,   xix,   xli, 

LIII,   LIV. 

ILCHESTER,  SIR  RODERICK 
— Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond:  VIII,   XLI,   LIII,   LIV. 

INCHLING.    MR.— One    of    Our 


Conquerors:  i,  xvii,  xviii,  xxi, 

XXVII. 

INCHLING,  MRS.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  x\aii,  xxvii. 

INES,  CHRISTOPHER— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  xiv-xix,  xxi, 
XXIII,  XXV,  XXIX,  xxx,  xxxii, 
XXXIII,  XXXV,  XXX\T,  XL,  XLI, 
XL  VI. 

INES,   MR. — Amazing  Marriage: 

x^^II. 
ISENTRUDE— Farina:  ^^. 
D'ISORELLA,  COUNTESS— Vit- 

toria:   x\j,  xxx,  xxxi,  xxxrv, 

XXXVI-XLV. 


JACK— see      RAIKES,      JOHN 

FAVERSHAJM. 
JACKO — Evan     Harrington:     ii, 

VII,  IX. 

JACOBS,  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxxix. 

DE  JACQUIERES,  MADAME— 
Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xxx. 

JANE — Evan  Harrington:  ix. 

JANE — House  on  the  Beach:  vi, 

XI,  XII. 

JANE,  AUNT— Rhoda  Fleming: 
x^^I,  XXIII. 

JARNIMAN— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: III,  IV,  VII,  X,  X\T,  XIX, 
XXI,  XXII,  xxx,  XXXI,  XXXVI, 
XL-XLII. 

JARNIMAN,  MRS.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xv. 


JAYE,  LADY  JULIAN.^- Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  iv. 

JENKINSON,  MRS.  MOUNT- 
STUART — Egoist:  n-xj,  ix,  x, 
XVII,  x^^II,  xxiv,  xxvii-xxxix, 

XLI,   XLIII-XL\nl,   XLIX,   L. 

JENNA,  LIEUTENANT— Vitto- 
ria:  ix,  x,  xxix,  xxx,  xxxix, 
XL,  XL^^. 

JENNINGS,  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxxix,  xlii, 

XLIII. 

JEREMY — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  liii. 

JERIDOMANI,  SIGNOR— One 
of  Our  Conquerors:  xx\aii. 

JIM — Sandra  Belloni:  ii,  viii,  ix. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


211 


JINKSON,  GILES— Ordeal  of 
Richard    Feverel:    viii-xi,    xx, 

XXIII. 

JOCELYN,  ALEC— Evan  Har- 
rington: IV,  XIV,  XVI,  XXXVII. 

JOCELYN,  LADY  EMILY— 
Evan  Harrington:   iii,  ix,  xiv, 

XVI-XXXV,        XXXVII,       XL,       XLI, 
XLIII-XLVI. 

JOCELYN,  SIR  FRANKS— Evan 
Harrington:  iii,  ix,  xiv,  xvi, 
XIX,  XXI,  XXII,  XXV,  xxvii- 
XXIX,  XXXI,  XXXIII,  XXXVII, 
XLIII,    XLV,   XLVI. 

JOCELYN,  HONORABLE  HAM- 
ILTON EVERARD  —  Evan 
Harrington:  xiii,  xiv,  xvi,  xxi, 

XXII,   XXIX. 

JOCELYN,  HARRY— Evan  Har- 
rington: XII,  XIV-XVI,  XVIII- 
XXV,  XXVII -XXXIII,  XXXVII,  XL, 
XLIII,    XLV,    XLVII. 

JOCELYN,  HONORABLE  MEL- 
VILLE— Evan  Harrington:  iii, 
IV,  vii,  VIII,  xm-xvii,  xix-xxii, 

XXIV,    XXV,    XXVII-XXX,    XXXVII. 

JOCELYN,  MRS.— Evan  Har- 
rington: IV,  XIV,  XV,  XVII,  XXII, 
XXIV,  XXVII,  XXIX,  XXXII, 
XXXVII,  XLIV. 


JOCELY'N,  ROSE— Evan  Har- 
rington: III,  IV,  VI,  VII,  IX,  X, 
XIII-XXII,  XXIV,  XXV,  XXVII-XL, 
XLIII-XLVII. 

JOCELYN,  COLONEL  SEY- 
MOUR— Evan  Harrington:  xiv, 

XX-XXII,  XXVII,  XXXI,  XXXVII. 

JOCHANY,  COUNT— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xiv. 

JOE — Rhoda  Fleming:  xlii. 

JOHN— Ordeal  of  Richard  Fev- 
erel: XXXVIII. 

JONATHAN— Evan   Harrington: 

VIII. 

JONES,  MRS.  MARY— Amazing 
Marriage:  xviii,  xix,  xxii. 

JOPSON,  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxxix. 

JOSEF:  Amazing  Marriage:  v. 

JOYCE— Evan  Harrington:  vii. 

JULINKS,  MISS— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xxi. 

VON  DER  JUNGFERWEIDE. 
HEINRICH— Farina:  i. 

JUPP  —  Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  iii. 

JUTTA,  PFALZGRAFIN  — Fa- 
rina: VI. 


K 


KADRAB— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

XI. 

KADZA — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  i, 

XI,  XXI-XXIV. 

KALTBLUT,  FRAU— Farina:  ii. 

KANE,  LADY— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xli,  xlii,  lvi. 

KARAVEJIS— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat: XVII-XXI,  XXIII. 

KARAZ — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  v- 

VIII,   X-XII,   XIV,   XVI-XXI,    XXIII, 
XXIV. 

DI   KARSKI,   IRM A  —  Vittoria: 

XIII-XV,    XVII,     XIX-XXI,     XXXVI, 
XL,  XLII,    XLV. 

VON  KARSTEG  PROFESSOR 
JULIUS — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  xxvii-xxxi,  xxxiv, 

XLIV. 

KASIRWAN,  SHAH— Shaving  of 

Shagpat:  xiv. 
KATH— Adventures      of     Harry 

Richmond:  xxxv. 


KEMPSON,  MRS.  —  Amazing 
Marriage:   i. 

KENDALL, — Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: XLIV. 

KESENSKY',  GRAF  —  Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  xlii, 

XLIII,  LV,  LVI. 

KHIPIL— Shaving    of    Shagpat: 

III,    IV,    XXII. 

KILLICK,  SAMUEL  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xix,  xx,  liv, 

LV. 

KILNE — Evan  Harrington:  i,  ii, 

VII,    XXVT. 

KILTORNE,  LADY  CHAR- 
LOTTE—One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors: XIX. 

KING  OF  OOLB— Shaving  of 
Shagpat:   viii-xi,  xxi-xxiv. 

KING  OF  THE  CITY  OF  SHAG- 
PAT— Shaving  of  Shagpat:  i, 
xx-xxiv. 


211 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


KIOMI — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:    vii-ix,    xviii,    xx, 

xxm.      XXXVT,      XL,     XLV-XL-Vll, 
LV,    L-IT. 

KIRBY.  CARINTHIA  JANE— 
Amazing  Marriage:  i,  lii-ix,  xi- 
XIX,  xxi-xxxi.  xxxiii-xxxv, 
xxx^^^-XL^^l. 

KIRBY-LEVELLIER,  CHIL- 
TON SWITZER  JOHN— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  i,  III-^^II,  x-xiii, 

XV,    XIX-XXI,    XXIV-XXX,    XXXII, 
XXXV-XXXVII,   XXXIX-XLVII. 

KIRBY,  CAPTAIN  JOHN  PE- 
TER AVASON— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: i-v,  xi-xm,  XV,  x\ai, 
x\aii,  XXII,    xxiii,    xxv-xx\ii, 

XXIX-XXXIV,     XXXVI,     XL,     XLII, 

XLIV-XL\1I. 

KIRBY.  RALPH  THORKILL— 
Amazing  Marriage:  I. 


KIRBY,  STANSON  —  Amazing 
Marriage:  I. 

KIT— see  INES.  CHRISTO- 
PHER. 

KOLLIN,  COUNT  — Tragic  Co- 
medians: II-IV. 

KOOROOKH— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:   XVI,  X\1II-XX,  XXIII,  XXIV. 

KORNIKOFF,  COUNTESS— Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry    Richmond: 

LIII. 

KRAUT — Farina:  ii,  ■v^. 

KRESNUK,  KING  OF  GAF— 
Shaving  of  Shagpat:  xxii-xxiv. 

KROOJIS— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

V. 

KROOZ  EL  KRAZAWIK— Shav- 
ing of  Shagpat:  xxi-xxiii. 


LAMMAKIN — Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: XI. 

LANDLADY  OF  THE  AURORA 
— Evan  Harrington:  viii. 

LARKINS — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  vi. 

LARRIAN,  GENERAL — Diana 
of  the  Crossways:  ii-iv,  vi,  xi, 
XIII,  XIV,  xviii,  xx\^II,  XXXV, 

XUII. 

LATTERS,  HARRY  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  xxxi,  xxxv^II. 

LAUN.AlY,  colonel — Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xu. 

LAXLEY,  FERDINAND— Evan 
Harrington:  xii,  xiii,  xv-xx, 
xxii-xxv,  xx^^I,  xxix-xxxviii, 

XL,  XLII,  XLIII,  XLV-XL\ai. 

LAXLEY,  LORD— Evan  Har- 
rington: XIX. 

LEBERN.  COUNT  —  Amazing 
Marriage:  v. 

LEBRUNO— Vittoria:  xix-xxi. 

LECZEL.  GENERAL  —  Tragic 
Comedians:  xvi,  x\ai. 

LEDDINGS— Amazing  Marriage: 

XXXII,   XXXVII,    XL. 

LEEM.A.N — Lord  Ormont  and  His 
Aminta:  xiii. 

VON  LENKENSTEIN.  COM- 
MENDATORE  GRAF  ADEL- 
BERT — Vittoria:     xi,     xxviii, 

XXX,    XXXIII,    XL,    XLV. 


VON  LENKENSTEIN,  COUNT- 
ESS ANNA — Vittoria:  xiv, 
x^^II-xx,  xx\a-xxx,  xxxiii, 
XXXI V,    xxx'va-XL,    xlii,    xliv, 

XLV. 

VON  LENKENSTEIN.  BIANCA 
— Vittoria:  xi,  x\aii,  xxvii, 
xx^^II,  XXX,  xxx-vt,  xlv. 

VON  LENKENSTEIN,  COUNT 
KARL — Vittoria:  xxxii-xxxiv, 

XXXVT,    XXXVIII-XL,    XLV,    XL^^. 

VON  LENKENSTEIN,  COUNT- 
ESS LENA — Vittoria:  ix,  xiv, 
xviii-xx,     xx^^I-xxx.     xxxiv, 

XXX\T,   XXX-SIII-XL,    XLV. 

VON  LENKENSTEIN,  COUNT 
PAUL — Vittoria:  ix,  xviii,  xix, 
XXVI,    xx\ai,    XXXIII,     xxxiv, 

XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XLV. 

LEO — Lord  Ormont  and  His 
Aminta:  iii,  xiii. 

LEONARDO — Vittoria:  xx,  xxi. 

LESPEL,  GR  ANCEY  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xi,  xv,  xvii- 
XXII,      xx\aii,      XXXI,     xxxii, 

XXXIX,  XLV.  LV. 

LESPEL,  MRS.  GRANCEY— 
Beauchamp'.s   Career:   xx,   xxi, 

XXAT,   XLV,    LV. 

LEVELLIER,  LORD— Amazing 
Marriage:  i-iii,  v,  xiii,  xiv, 
x\^I,  x-\nii,  XXII,  xxiv,  xxvii, 

XXXIV,    XXXV,    XLII,    XLIIl,    XLV, 
XL  VI. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


213 


LEWISON,  LADY  MARY— Ego- 
ist: XXIII. 

LIESCHEN— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond:  xv,  xxxiii,  xxxv. 

LIESCHEN— Farina:  vi. 

LIKA.  COUNT— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xliii. 

LINNINGTON,  FRED  —  Evan 
Harrington:  xiii. 

LISA — Vittoria:  xxvii. 

LIVELYSTON,  LORD  —  Evan 
Harrington:  iv,  xiv. 

LIVRET,  M.— Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: xxiii,  xxv. 

LLEWELLYN  —  Amazing  Mar- 
riage: xxxiv. 

LOCKRACE,  EARL  OF— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxxii,  xxxvii. 

LOEPEL,  COUNT— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xxxii. 

LOFTUS,  ADMIRAL— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  xxxix, 

XLI,    XLII,    XLVIII,    L. 

LORENZO— Vittoria:  ix,  xlvi. 
LORING,       DOROTHY  —  Evan 
Harrington:  xiii,  xvi,  xvii,  xix, 

XX,   XXX,    XXXVII,    XLII. 

LORING,  SIR  JOHN— Evan 
Harrington:  xvi,  xvili,  xix,  xxi, 

XXIX-XXXI,  XXXIII,  XXXVII. 


LOTSDALE,  CRANMER— One 
of  Our  Conquerors:  xxi. 

LOVELL,  HARRY  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  vz,  xxii. 

LOVELL,  MARGARETT— Rho- 
da Fleming:  i,  vi,  viii,  ix,  xvi- 
xxiv,       xxvai-xxxii,       xxxiv, 

XXXVI,    XLIV-XLVIII. 

LOWTON,  SIR  GEORGE— Evan 
Harrington:  xiii. 

LUCIANI  BIANCA— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xx,  xxi. 

LULOO— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 
xxi. 

LUMLEY,     CAPTAIN  —  Sandra 

Belloni:  xxxvt. 
LUMLEY,    MR.— Adventures    of 

Harry  Richmond:  xxi. 
LUPIN,    MRS.— Sandra    Belloni: 

III,  XV,  XVI,  XXVII,  XXIX,  XXXII, 
XXXIII. 

LUTON,  EARL  OF— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xlvii. 

LYDIARD,  LOUISE  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxxiii,  xxxvii, 

XLV. 

LYDIARD,  MR.— Beauchamp's 
Career:     xii,     xix-xxi,     xxvii, 

XXVIII,  XXXIII,  xxxv,  XXXVII, 
XXXIX,  XLII,  XLV,  XLVI,  XLVIII, 
L-LVI . 


M 


MACKRELL,  JOHN  ROSE— 
Amazing  Marriage:  xxiii,  xxiv, 
XXVI,  XXVIII,  XXXIV,  xxxix, 
XLV-XLVII. 

MACPHERSON,  DR.  WILLIAM 
— Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xxvi, 

XXVII. 

MAHONY,  CAPTAIN  CAREW 
— Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xiii, 

XXVIII. 

MAHRLEN,  PROFESSOR— Ad- 
ventures  of    Harry   Richmond: 

XXXIII. 

MALET,  CAPTAIN— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xiv. 

MALKIN,  MR.— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  ill. 

MALLARD,  AMBROSE— Amaz- 
iiig  Marriage:  in,  xv,  x\t,  xviii, 
XXIII,     XXVIII,     XXXIV,     xxxv, 

.xxxix,  XLl,  XLII,  XLIV. 

MALLOW,  MRS.— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: VII,  XIV. 


MANTON— One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors:   XXIII,   XXXIV. 

MANX,  QUINTIN— Diana  of  the 

Cro.ssways:  xv,  xvii,  xxi,  xxvii, 
XXXIII,  xxxv. 

MAPLES,  MRS.— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xiii. 

MARGARET— Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel:  xxvtii. 

MARIA — Vittoria:  xxiv. 

MARIANDAL— Amazing    Mar- 
riage: III,  V. 

MARINI,  GIULIA— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  XXXVII-XL,   LII,   LIX. 

MARINI,  LUIGI— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: XXXIV,  XXXVII,  XXXVIII, 
XL,  XLVI-XLVIII,  LIX. 

MARION— Sandra  Belloni:  xxx. 
MARK — Evan     Harrington:     xi, 

XII. 

MARKIIAM,  NED— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  vii. 


214 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


MARKLAND.  MRS.— Diana  of 
the  Cros.sways;  xxxv. 

MARQUIS,  THE  —  see  HAR- 
RINGTON.    MELCHISEDEC. 

MARSCHATSKA— Vittoria:  iv. 

MARSETT,  CAPTAIN  ED- 
WARD—One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors: xx\aii,  XXIX,  XXXII,  XXXIV, 

XXXVIU,    XXXIX. 

MARSETT,  JUDITH  — One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xxviii,  XL. 

MARSHALLED,  KING— Shav- 
ing of  Shagpat:  li. 

MARTER,  REVEREND  MR.— 
Sandra  Belloni:  xxiii,  xxxiv. 

MARTHA — Amazing  Marriage: 
xxix,  xxxii,  xxxiii,  xxxv. 

MARTHA— Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  xiv. 

MARTIN,  ELIZABETH— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  i. 

MARTIN,  WILLIAM- Amazing 
Marriage:  i. 

MARTINEZ,  CAPTAIN- -Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  lvi. 

MARTINSWARD,  CATHERINE 

— Tale  of  Chloe:  ii-x. 
MARY  —  Beauchamp's       Career: 

XL^ai. 

MARY— Egoist:  XL. 

MARY — Evan  Harrington:  xxvi. 

MARY — One  of  Our  Conquerors: 

XXVIII,   XXXII,  XXXIV,  XXX\T. 

MASNER,  JOSEPH— Lord  Or- 
mont and   His   Aminta:   i,   xi, 

XXVIII. 

MASTALONE.  FILIPPO— Vit- 
toria: II. 

MATEY— see  WEYBURN,  MAT- 
THEW. 

MATTEO— Vittoria:  xiv. 

MAY,  AMY — Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  vi.  xi,  xii,  xv,  xit, 
x\^II,    XIX,    XXI,    xxiii,    XXV, 

XXVI. 

MAY,  CAPTAIN— Lord  Ormont 
and    His    Aminta:    \t.,    xi,    xii, 

■S.VI,  XIX,  XXIII,  XXV,  XXVI. 

MEDOLE.  COUNT— Vittoria:  ii, 
VIII,  X,  XII,  XV,  x\a,  x\aii,  xx, 
XXX,  XXXI,  xxxv,  xxx^^II,  xl. 

MEDOLE,  COUNTESS  — Vitto- 
ria: XL. 

MEEK.  EZRA  and  JONATHAN 
— Amazing  Marriage:  xlii. 


MEL— see  (1)  HARRINGTON. 
MELCHISEDEC  and  (2)  JOCE- 
LYN,  HONORABLE  MEL- 
VILLE. 

MELVILLE,  MRS.— see  JOCE- 
LYN,  MRS. 

MENAI,  COUNTESS  OF— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxxi. 

MERCADESCO— Vittoria:   xxix. 

MERION,  DAN  — Diana  of  the 
Crossways:    i-in,    v,    vn,    viii, 

XVII,  XIX,  XXIII,  XXVIII,  xxxvii, 
XXXMII. 

MERION,  DIANA— see  WAR- 
WICK, DIANA  ANTONIO. 

M'GILLIPER— Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: XIX. 

MICHELL  —  Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: IV,  XI. 

MICHIELA — Vittoria:   xiv,  xix- 

XXI,  XXUI,  XXV,  XXXII. 

MIDDLETON,   CLARA— Egoist: 

IV-L. 

MIDDLETON,      MRS.  — Egoist: 

XX. 

MIDDLETON,  REVEREND  DR. 
— Egoist:  iv-xi,  XIII,  xv,  xvii- 

XX\TI,        XXIX-XXXVII,        XXXIX, 
XLI-L. 

MILLINGTON,  COLONEL— 
Beauchamp's  Career:  xxi. 

MINA — Vittoria:  xxvi. 

MOLYNEAUX,  PETER— Beau- 
champ's Career:  xix,  xx. 

MONTAGUE  —  Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  vi. 

MONTAGUE— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors:  XXIII. 

MONTAGUE,  MRS.— Egoist:  vn. 

XIX,  XXIV,  XXV. 

MONTESINI— Vittoria:    xxix. 
MONTINI— Vittoria:    xix-xxii, 
xxx^^II. 

MONT^^RT,  MR.  and  MRS.— 
Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xiv. 

MOODY,  WTLLIAM  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  x\aii,  xix,  xxiv. 

MORSFIELD,  ADOLPHUS— 
Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta: 
III,    VI,    ■van.    x-xiii,    xv-xxvi, 

XXIX. 

MORTIMER,  MR.— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing:  XL. 

MORTIMER.  MRS.— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xxx\a. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


215 


MORTON,  MR.— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  ii,  iv,  xx,  xxxiv. 

MORTON,  RALPH  BARTHROP 
— Ordeal    of    Richard    Feverel: 

XII,       XIV,       XV,       XXVIII,       XXIX, 
XXXIV,   XXXV,   XLV. 

MOUNT,      BELLA— Ordeal      of 
Richard  Feverel:  xxxv-xxxviii, 

XLIII. 

MOUNTFALCON,      LORD— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  xxxiv- 

XXXVI,  XXXIX,   XLIII,  XLV. 


MOUNTNEY,  MAB— One  of  Our 

Conquerors:  xiii. 
MOUNTSTUART,     MRS.  —  see 

JENKINSON,  MRS.  MOUNT- 
STUART. 
MUNCASTLE,     MR.— Lord     Or- 

mont  and  His  Aminta:  i. 
MUSTAPHA,  BABA— Shaving  of 

Shagpat:  i,  iii,  viii,  ix,  xii,  xiv, 

xx-xxiv. 
MYTHARETE,     PISISTRATUS 

— One  of  Our  Conquerors:  xix, 

XXVIII,   XLI. 


N 


NAGEN,     GENERAL— Vittoria: 

XXXIX,    XLIV-XLVI. 

NASE,       PFALZGRAF— Farina: 

XVI. 

NASHTA— Shaving   of   Shagpat: 

II. 
NATKINS— Ordeal    of     Richard 

Feverel:  iv. 


NEWSON,    MR.— Adventures   of 
Harry    Richmond:    xxiv,    xxv, 

XXVII,    XXXIX,    XLI,    XLII,    XLIV, 
XLVII. 

NOORNA  BIN  NOORKA— Shav- 
ing of  Shagpat:  i,  iii,  v-xxiv. 

NYMNEY — Amazing  Marriage:  i. 


o 


OAKES— Lord  Ormont  and  His 

Aminta:  xxvili. 
OGGLER — Beauchamp's   Career: 

XIX. 

OPLE.  ELIZABETH— Case  of 
General  Ople  and  Lady  Camper: 

I-VIII. 

OPLE,  GENERAL  WILSON— 
Case  of  General  Ople  and  Lady 
Camper:  i-viii. 

D'ORBEC,  BARONNE— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxiii,  xxv. 

D'ORBEC,  M.— Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: xxiii,  xxv. 

ORMOND,  CAROLINE— Beau- 
champ's Career:  xxvi. 

ORMONT,  MAJOR  GENERAL 
THOMAS      ROWSLEY— Lord 


Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  i-xiii, 
xv-xxvi,  XXVIII-XXX. 

ORSO,    COUNT— Vittoria:    xix- 

XXI. 

OSRIC — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:   vri,   viii. 

OTTILIA,  PRINCESS  WILHEL- 
MINA  FREDERIKA  HED- 
WIG — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:        xv-xix,        xxiv- 

XXXIX,  XLI-XLIV,  XLVII-LVI. 

OTTILIA— Farina:  il. 

OTTO,  PRINCE— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxvi,  xxvii, 

XXX -XXXIV,     XXXIX. 

OXFORD,  CAPTAIN  HARRY— 
Egoist:  III,  X,  XXI,  xxiii,  xlii. 


PAGNELL,  ALFRED  NAR- 
GETT— Lord  Ormont;  and  His 
Aminta:  vi. 

PAGNELL,  MRS.  NARGETT— 
Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta: 

I,     III,     V-VIII,     X,     XII,     XIII,     XV- 
XXI,   XXVI. 


PALMET,     LORD     ERNEST— 
Beauchamp's    Career:    xix-xxi, 

XXVI,  XXVIII-XXXI,  XXXVI, 

XXXVII,   XLIV,   XLV,    LV. 

PAPWORTH,  SIR  MILES— Or- 
deal of  Richard  Feverel:  ii,  iv- 

VI,   XI. 


!16 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


PARSLEY,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton:   XIII-XV,    XIX,    XXV,    XXVII, 

XXXIII,  XL^^I. 

PARSONS,  JAMES  FANNERS— 
Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta: 

XII. 

PARYLI,  PRINCESSTHERE.se 
— Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xiv. 

PAT — Evan  Harrington:  xxv. 

PATTERNE,  CR0S3JAY— Ego- 
ist:   IV,    ^^-xv,    x^^I-XIX,    xxi- 

XXXIII,   XXX^n-XLIII,    XLVI-L. 

PATTERNE,  LIEUTENANT 
CR0S3JAY — Egoist:  i,  iv,  viii, 

IX,   XI,   XXXII,   XLII. 

PATTERNE,  LADIES  ELEA- 
NOR    and     ISABEL— Egoist: 

I,  II,  IV,  Vl-X,  XIV,  XV,  XXII, 
XXIV,  XXV,  XXIX-XXXI,  XXXVI 
XXXVIII,  XXXIX,  XLI,  XLIV- 
XLVI,  XLIX. 

PATTERNE,  LADY— Egoist:   i- 

VI,    XIII. 

PATTERNE,  MRS.— Egoist:  vm, 

XLII. 

PATTERNE,  SIMON— Egoist:  i. 
PATTERNE,  SIR  WILLOUGH- 

BY — Egoist:  i-xi,  xiii-l. 
PAWLE,  BARON— Diana  of  the 

Cross  ways:  xxx. 
PAYNE — Sandra  Belloni:  xxxii. 

PAYNHAM,  MARY— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  x\aii.  xix,  xxi, 
xxiri,  xxv,  xxvri-xxx,  xxxix, 

XLI-XUII. 

PAYNTER— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond:  vi. 

DE  PEL,  COUNTESS— Evan 
Harrington:  iii. 

PEMPTON,  MR.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  iv,  viii,  ix,  xi,  xiv, 
xviii,    xx-xxii,    xxv,    xxxiii, 

XXX\T,  XL-XLII. 

PENNERG.\TE,  MR.— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xviii. 

PENNON,  LADY— Diana  of  the 
Crossways;  i,  xiv,  x\^I,  x^aii, 
XXI,    xxiii,    xxv,    xx\aii-xxx, 

XXXIX. 

PENNYCUICK,      MR.  —  Rhoda 

Fleming:  XL. 
PENRHYS,  ANNA— Adventures 

of    Harry   Richmond:    xx-xxii, 

xx\ai,  XXXIX,  xu-XLiv. 
PEPPEL,  COMMANDER— Beau- 

champ'.s  Career:  x^^^,  XL^^I. 


PERICLES,  ANTONIO  AGIOL- 
OPOULOS— SandraBelloni:  i-v, 
x\ai,  XXI,  xxiii,  XXIV,  xxvii, 
xxx-xxxii,      XXXI V,      xxx^^I, 

XXXIX,     XL,     XLII,     LII,     LIV-L-^T, 

LViii,  Lix.    Vittoria:  v-\iii,  xiii, 

XIV,  X-VII-XXI,        XXIII,        XXXI, 
XXX\^II,   XL-XLII,   XLIV. 

PERIDON,  MR.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:    iv,    ■van,    xi,    xiv, 

XV,  x^-lu,  XX,  xxii,  xxv,  xxxiii, 

XXX%T,  XL-XUI. 

PERKINS  —  Evan    Harrington: 

XLIV. 

PERKINS,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton: VII,  XLIV,  XLV. 

PERKINS,  MRS.— Evan  Har- 
rington:  XXXI. 

PERRIN— One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors:  XXIII,   XXXIV,   XXXV. 

PETERBOROUGH,  REVER- 
END AMBROSE— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xxiii- 
xx^ai,  xxx,  XXXIII,  xxxiv, 
xxx\^-xxxvIII,  XLI,  u. 

PETTIFER,  SIR  ■«^LSON— 
Egoist:  XXXV. 

PETTIGREW,  MRS.— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  ii,  in,  xiv, 
x\an,  XLii. 

YON  PFENNIG— Farina:  in. 

PHELPS,  LUMMY  —  Amazing 
Marriage:  xv. 

PHILIBERTE,  DAME— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxni,  xxiv. 

PHILIPPA— Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  in. 

PHILLIMORE,  DICK— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond: 
XL■^^II. 

PHIPPUN— House  on  the  Beach: 
n-iv. 

PIAVTINI,      AMALIA— Vittoria: 

XI -XIII,    XXYlll,    XL-XLII. 

PIAVENI.  GIACOMO— Vittoria: 
V,  IX,  x^^II,  xx^^u.  xxx,  xxxvi. 

PIA^'ENI,  GIACOMO  II— Vit- 
toria: xi-xin,  xx\^II,  xl-xlii. 

PIAVENI,  LAURA— Vittoria;  v, 
■\^II,  X,  xii-xiv,  x^T,  x\aii-xxi, 
xxiii,     xx^^I,     xx\aii,     xxxi- 

XXXIII,    XXXV-XLVI. 

PIERSON,  COLONEL  JOHN— 
Sandra  Belloni:  xvj,  xxiii,  xun, 
LII,  LIX.  Vittoria:  xi,  xiii-x., 
XIV,  x^^I,  xix-xxii,  xxvui,  xxx, 

XXXII,   XXXIX,   XL. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


217 


PIERSON.    LIEUTENANT— see 

POLE.  WILFRID. 
PILLIE,  DR.— Evan  Harrington: 

XI,  XII. 

PINNET— Lord  Ormont  and  His 
Aminta:  xxviii. 

PITSCREW,  LORD  SIMON— 
Amazing  Marriage;  ii,  lii,  xxii, 
XXXIV,   xxxix. 

PLUMSTON,  TOMMY— Tale  of 
Chloe:  v. 

PLUNGER  —  Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: XI. 

POLE,  ADELA— Sandra  Belloni: 

l-V,  VII-X,  XIV-XVII,  XIX,  XXI, 
XXIII,  XXIV,  XXVII,  XXIX-XXXI- 
XXXVII,        XLII,        LII-LVII,        LIX. 

Vittoria:  vi-ix,  xvii-xix,  xxviii, 

XXXVII-XL. 

POLE,  ARABELLA— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:   I-V,    VII-X,    XIV-XVII,    XIX, 

XXI,  XXVtl,  XXIX,  XXXI-XXXVI, 
XUI,   LII,  LVI,    UX. 

POLE,  CORNELIA— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:    I-V,     VII-X,     XIV-XIX,    XXI, 

XXII,  XXVI,    XXVII,    XXIX,    XXX- 

XXXVI,  XXXVIII,  XL,  XLII,  LII- 
LVII,  LIX. 

POLE,  SAMUEL  BOLTON— 
Sandra  Belloni:  i-v,  vii-ix, 
XIV-XVII,        XIX,        xxiii-xxxv, 

XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XL,  XLII,  LIV, 
LVI,  LIX. 

POLE,  WILFRID:  Sandra  Bel- 
loni:   I-VIII,    X-XXI,   XXIII,   XXIV, 

xxvi-Liv,  LVi-Lix.     Vittoria:  v- 

X,  XIV,  XVII-XXII,  XXVII-XXX, 
XXXII-XXXIV,  XXXVII,  XXXIX- 
XL,   XLV,   XLVl. 

POLLINGTON  —  Egoist:     xxv. 

XXIX. 

POLLINGTON,   MR.   and  MRS. 

— Case  of  General  Ople  and  Lady 

Camper:  ii,  vi,  vii. 
POLLY— see  WISHAW.  MARY 

FENCE. 


POLTERMORE,  COLONEL— 
Tale  of  Chloe:  vii,  viii,  x. 

POONEY,  SIR  ALFRED— House 
on  the  Beach:  vii. 

POSTERLEY,  REVEREND 
ABRAM — One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors: XXIII,  XXIV,  XXIX,  XXX, 
XXXIII. 

POSTILLION— Evan  Harrington: 

VI,  VII. 

POTTIL,  SIR  HUMPHREY  and 
LADY — One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors:  XXII,   XXIV. 

POTTS,  CHUMLEY— Amazing 
Marriage:    iii,    x-xii,   xv-xviii, 

XXIII,  XXVI,  XXVIII,  XXXIV, 
XXXVII,   XXXIX-XLII,   XLIV,   XLV. 

POTTS,  COLONEL  JACK— 
Amazing  Marriage:  il. 

POWYS,  MERTHYR  —  Sandra 
Belloni:  v,  x,  xv,  xviii,  xxvii- 
XXIX,  XXXI,  xxxii,  xxxiv, 
XXXVII,  XXXVIII,  XLI,  XLIII, 
XLV-L,    LII,    LIV,    LVI,    LVIII,    LIX. 

Vittoria:      xiii,      xix,      xxvii, 

XXVIII,      XXXII,      XXXV,      XXXVI, 

XXXVIII-XLVI. 

PRANCER  —  Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: XI. 

PRIDDEN,  MARTHA— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xxxi,  xxxiii, 

XXXIV,  XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XLI, 
XLII. 

PRINCE  PALATINE  OF  BO- 
HEMIA—Farina:  VI. 

PRYME,  SIR  TWICKENHAM— 
Sandra  Belloni:  x,  xv-xvii,  xix, 

XXVII,  XXXI,  XXXIII,  XXXIV, 
XXXVI,  XXXVII,  XLII,  LV,  LVII, 
LIX. 

PULLEN— Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:   XL. 

PURLBY,  COLONEL— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xiv. 

DE  PYRMONT,  GEORGES— 
Vittoria:  xiii,  xiv,  xix,  xx, 
I        xxii. 


Q 


QUATLEY,  LADY— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xxvii,  XLi. 

QUATLEY,  SIR  ABRAHAM— 
One  of  Our  Conquerors:  xxi, 
xxiii,      xxvi,      xxvii,      xxxvi, 

XXXVII. 


QUEEN  OF  PORTUGAL— Evan 

Harrington:  xxxi. 
QUEENEY,  JOSHUA— Amazing 

Marriage:    xxxiv,   xxxvii,    xl, 

XLI. 

QUILLETT,   MRS.   COWPER— 
Amazing  Marriage:  xill,  xvil. 


218 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


R 


RABESQURAT  —  Shaving  of 
Shagpat:  iii,  v,  x,  xii-xiv,  xvii, 

XXI,    XXIII,    XXIV, 

RABY,  DUCHESS  OF— Diana  of 

the  Cross  ways:  xiv. 
RADNOR,    MRS.    BURMAN   — 

One    of    Our    Conquerors:    iii- 

VIII,      XI-XIV,      XVI,      XVIII-XXII, 
XXIV,   XXV,   XXVII,    XXX,   XXXVI, 

xxx\^I,  XXXIX,  xLii. 

RADNOR,  GENERAL— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xxii,  xxiii. 

RADNOR.  NATALIA  DREIGH- 
TON — One  of  Our  Conquerors: 
II-\T,  VIII-XIX,  xxi-xxxi, 

XXXIII-XLII. 

RADNOR,  NESTA  VICTORIA— 
One  of  Our  Conquerors:  ii,  iii, 

V.   VI,   VIII-XLII. 

RADNOR,  VICTOR  MONTGOM- 
ERY— One  of  Our  Conquerors: 

I-XXVII,      XXIX,      XXXI,      XXXIII, 
XXXV-XXXVII,     XXXIX-XLII. 

RADOCKY,   PRINCE   LOUIS— 

Vittoria:  xl,  xlv. 
RAIKES,  JOHN  FEVERSHAM 

— Evan  Harrington:  x-xiv,  xvi- 

XIX,        XXV-XXXIV,        XXXVI-XLI, 
XLV-XLVII. 

RAINER,  CHARLES— Diana  of 

the  Crossways:  xvii,  xxi,  xxiii. 

RAMBONI,      COUNT— Vittoria: 

XLV. 

RAMPAN.  CAPTAIN— Diana  of 

the  Crossways:  iv. 
RANDELLER,    SIR    JOHN— 
Lord  Ormont  and  His  Aminta: 

III,  VI,  XII,  XXIX. 

RANDOM,  MISS— Ordeal  of  Rich- 
ard Feverel:  xxx\t. 

DE  RASADIO,  CHEVALIER 
MIGUEL — Evan      Harrington: 

XXIV. 

RASATI,  COUNT— Vittoria:  xv. 

RASOON,  EL— see  EL  RASOON. 

RASTAGLIONI,  COUNTESS— 
Beauchamp's  Career:  xix. 

RAVALOKE— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:   XI,  XXIV. 

RAVEJOURA— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:  XVIII,  XX. 

RAY,     LADY — House     on     the 

Beach:  iv. 
REDDISH,  LADY  EVELINA— 

One  of  Our  Conquerors:  xxxv. 


REDNER,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton:  IV. 

VON  REDWITZ,  CHANCEL- 
LOR— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  xxxiv. 

VON  REDWITZ,  II— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  lv,  lvi. 

REDWORTH,  THOMAS— Diana 
of  the  Crossways:  ii-xviii,  xxi, 

XXIII-XXIX,    XXXV-XLIII. 

REGNAULT  —   Adventures     of 

Harry  Richmond:  xxxii. 
REM,    CLEMENTINA— One    of 

Our  Conquerors:  xxiii. 
REM,  SIR  NICHOLAS— One  of 

Our  Conquerors:  xxiii. 
REM,   REVEREND  STUART— 

One  of  Our  Conquerors:  xxiii, 

XXIV,  XXIX,  XXX,  XXXIII,  XXXIV. 

REMAUD,  FRANK— Evan  Har- 
rington: XX\J,  XXX,  XL. 

DE      REMILLA,      MARQUIS— 

Evan  Harrington:  xxi. 
REWKES,    DR.— Lord    Ormont 

and  His   Aminta:  xxvi,  xxix, 

XXX. 

RHODES,  ARTHUR— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xviii,  xix,  xxi, 

XXIII, XXV,  XXVTI,  XXVIII,  XXX, 
XXXI,  XXXV-XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XL, 
XLIII. 

RIBSTONE,     MRS.— House     on 

the  Beach:  vi,  vill. 
RIBSTONE,        P  H  I  L  I  P  —  see 

SMITH.  VAN  DIEMEN  (II). 

RICCI,    ROCCO— Vittoria:    viii, 

XII-XV.    XIX-XXI.    XXIII,    XXVIII, 

xxx\^I,  XXXVIII. 

RICHARDS,  MR.— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xliv. 

RICHARDS,  MR.— see  FEVER- 
EL, RICHARD  DORIA. 

RICHMOND,  AUGUSTUS  FITZ- 
GEORGE  ROY— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  i-ix,  xiv- 
x\^I,  XXIX,  xxxii-Lvi. 

RICHMOND,  HARRY  LEPEL— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

I -LVI. 

RICHMOND,  MARIAN  —  Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond: 
i-iii,  IX,  xxx\aii,  Lii. 

RIFFORD,  LADY  ISABELLA— 
Diana  of  the  Crossways:  xxx. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


219 


RIPLEY,  SIR  PERKINS— Evan 
Harrington:  xiii. 

VON  RIPPAU,  MARGRAVINE 
—  Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond: xv-xix,  XXIV-XXVII, 
XXIX,  XXX,  XXXIII,  XXXIV,  XLII, 
XLVIII,  LUI,  LVI. 

RIPPENGALE— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  in. 

RIPPENGER,  JULIA— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  iv-vi, 
IX,  X,   xviii-xx,   xxiii,   xxxvi- 

XXXVIII,  XL,  XLI,  XLV,  XLVl, 
XLIX,   LIII,   LV,   LVI. 

RIPPENGER,  MR.— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  iv-ix,  xii, 

XIII,   XVIII. 

RISBONDA,  DONA— Evan  Har- 
rington: V. 

RIVERS,  MELTHUEN— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  vii. 

RIZZO,  BARTOLOMMEO— Vit- 
toria:  ii,  v,  vii-x,  xii,  xv,  xvi, 

XVIII,  XIX,  XXI,  XXV,  XXIX,  XXX, 
XXXIII,  XXXIV,  XXXVI -XLVI. 

RIZZO,      ROSELINA— Vittoria: 

VII,  XV,  XXIX,  XXX,  XXXII- 
XXXVI,    XL-XLIII. 

ROBERT— Sandra  Belloni:  xlvii. 

DE  LA  ROCHE-AIGLE,  MA- 
DAME LA  COMTESSE— Diana 
of  the  Cross  ways:  xxx. 

ROCKDEN,  LADY— Diana  of 
the  Cross  ways:  xiv. 

ROFE,  SIMON— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xx. 

ROLLES,  REGINALD— Case  of 
General  Ople  and  Lady  Camper: 

I-VIII. 

ROMARA,  LUCIANO— Vittoria: 

XV-XVIII,  XXI,  XXII,  XXIX-XXXI, 
XXXVI-XLI. 

ROMARIS,  PRINCE  MARKO 
— Tragic  Comedians:  i,  ii,  v,  vi, 

XI,  XII,  XVII-XIX. 

ROMFREY,  CRAVEN— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  ii.  iv,  xxxvii, 
xxxvni. 

ROMFREY,  EARL  I— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  ii,  iv,  xxxviii, 

XXXIX,    XLI. 

ROMFREY,  EARL  II— see  ROM- 
FREY, HONORABLE  EVER- 
ARD. 

ROMFREY,  HONORABLE  EV- 
ERARD — Beauchamp's  Career: 

I-V,  X-XIV,  XVI-XVIII,  XX-XXII, 
XXV,  XXVIII-XXXIX,  XLI-XLV, 
XLVIII-LIV,    LVI. 


ROMUALDO— Vittoria:  xxi. 

ROOMDROOM  —  Shaving  of 
Shagpat:  viii,  ix. 

ROSELEY,  ADMIRAL  — Evan 
Harrington:  i,  ii. 

ROSELEY,  LADY— Evan  Har- 
rington: I-III,  XIII,  XIV,  XIX-XXII. 

ROSTRAL,  MADAME  —  Evan 
Harrington:  n. 

ROTHHALS,  HENKER— Fari- 
na: HI,  VII,  x-xiii. 

DE  ROUAILLOUT,  MARQUIS 
RAOUL — Beauchamp's  Career: 
VII,  vin,  X,  XI,  xxiii-xxvi,  xxx, 

XXXIX,  XL,  XLII,  XLIII,   XLV,   LV. 

DE  ROUAILOUT,  MARQUISE 
—see  DE  CROISNEL,  RENEE. 

ROULCHOOK,  EBN— Shaving 
of  Shagpat:  ii. 

RUARK — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  ii. 

RUBREY.  FRED— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xli. 

VON  RUDIGER,  CLOTILDE 
— Tragic  Comedians:  Introduc- 
tion: I-XIX. 

VON  RUDIGER,  GENER.A.L  and 
FRAU — Tragic    Comedians:    i, 

IV-VI,  VIII,  IX,  XI-XV,  XVII, 
XVIH. 

VON  RUDIGER,  LOTTE— Trag- 
ic Comedians:  viii,  xii. 

RUDOLFO— Vittoria:  xxi. 

RUFO,     LEONE— Vittoria:     xv. 

XXIX,    XXXIH,    XXXIV,    XXXVIII. 

RUFUS,  SERJEANT— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xxx. 

RUKROOTH— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat: II. 

RUNDLES,  MISS— Amazing  Mar- 
riage:  XVII,  XXXVII,  XL. 

RUNDLES,  MR.— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XV,  XVII,  XIX. 

RUNNINGBROOK,  TRACY— 
Sandra   Belloni:   iv,   v,   viii,   x, 

XXIII,  XXV,  XXXI,  XXXII,  XXXIV, 
xxx  VIII,  XLII-XUV,  XLVI,  XLVII, 
LVI-LVIII. 

RUSSETT,  EDWARD— Amaz- 
ing   Marriage:    ii,    iii,    vi-xxi, 

XXIII,    XLVI. 

RUSSETT,  JOHN  EDWARD— 
Amazing        Marriage:        xxxv, 

XXXVII,  XL,  XLII,  XLVI. 


220 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


SADDLEBANK,  ANDREW  — 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

V-VIII,   XI,   LV. 

DE  ST.  OMBRE,  M.— Amazing 
Marriage:  x,  xxiii,  xxiv,  xxviii, 

XXXV,  XXXIX. 

DE  SALDAR,  CONDE  SENOR 
SILVA  DIAZ— Evan  Harring- 
ton: iii-v,  XIV,  xix-xxi,  xx\ai, 

XXX,   XL,   XLIV,   XL\ai. 

DE  SALDAR,  COUNTESS  LOU- 
ISA— Evan  Harrington:   iii-ix, 

XIII-XXVII,        XXIX-XUV,        XL\T, 
XLVII. 

SALLAP— Sha\'ing    of    Shagpat: 

XXII,    XXIII. 

SALLY — Evan  Harrington:  i,  vii. 

SALLY — Evan  Harrington:  xxvi. 

SALTER,  JOHN— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  v-vii. 

SALVOLO — Vittoria:   xix,  xx. 

SAMPLEMAN,  LADY— Advent- 
ures  of   Harry   Richmond:    xx, 

XXII,  XX\^I,  XXXIX,  XLIII,  xliv, 
LV. 

SAMUEL — Adventures  of  Harry 

Richmond:  XL. 
SAMUELS  —  Rhoda        Fleming: 

XXXI. 

SANDOE,  DIAPER— see  SOM- 
ERS,  DENZIL. 

SANDRA— see  BELLONI,  EMIL- 
IA ALESSANDRA. 

SANFREDINI,  SIGNORA  GIU- 
LIA  —  One  of  Our  Conquerors: 

III,   XXIV,   XXX\T,   XXXIX,   XLI. 

SANO,     MARCO— Vittoria:     i-v. 

XXX,    XXX^T,    XLI-XLIV.    XLVI. 

SARACCO,  LUIGI— Vittoria:  v, 
VII,  vin.  X,  xiii-xv,  xx\^^, 
XXXII,    XXXIII.    XXXV,    xxx\ai, 

XXX-^ail,  XL,  XLII,  XLV. 

SARPO — Vittoria:  xxvri,  xl,  xli. 
SATHANAS— Farina:  iv,  v,  viii- 

x,  XIV,  XV,  x^^I. 
SCHILL.  DIETRICH— Farina:  i, 

XIV-X\T. 

SCHLESIEN,  DR.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:    iii,    viii,    ix,    xi, 

XVIII-XXI. 

SCHMIDT.  BERTHOLD— Fa- 
rina: I,  V,  VI,  XIV,  XV. 

SCHMIDT,  CUNIGONDE— Fa- 
rina: Yl,  XV. 


SCHONECK,  GENERAL— Vit- 
toria: IX,  XXX,  XXXII,  XXXIII, 
XXXIX,    XL. 

SCHWARTZ  —  Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xxiv-xxxi, 
XXXIII,  XXXIV,  XL-^aii,  L. 

SCH^VEIZERBARTH— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xv. 

SCHYLL-WEILINGEN,  PRIN- 
CESS OF  —  see  AMALIA, 
DUCHESS. 

SCOTT,  JOHN— House  on  the 
Beach:  xii. 

SCROOM,  JERRY— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  X'vt. 

SEDGETT,  JOHN— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: x\ii,  x\^II. 

SEDGETT,  MRS.— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing:  X'Vail,   XXXI,   XL\T. 

SEDGETT,  NICODEMUS  — 
Rhoda  Fleming:  x\aii-xxiv, 
xx■^^I,  xxix-xxxi,  xxxiii,  xxxv, 

XXX\T[I-XXXIX,    XLI,    XLII,    XLIV- 
XL\T. 

SEDLEY,   MR.— Vittoria:   ■^^,  x. 

XIX,    XXVIII. 

SEDLEY,  MRS.— see  POLE, 
ADELA. 

SEDLEY,  VISCOUNTESS— Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry   Richmond: 

XXXIX,  XLI. 

SEGRAVE,  COLONEL  HIB- 
BERT — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  XL%ai,  l. 

DE  SEILLES,  LOUISE— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  ^aii.  xi,  xiv, 
XV,  xvii,  x\au,  XX,  xxii,  xxiv, 
xx-vaii,     XXX,     XXXIII,    xxx:\', 

XXXIX-XLII. 

SEMHIANS,  RE\TEREND  MAN- 
CATE— One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors: XIX,  XXIV,  xx\aii,  XXXVI, 

XLI. 

SEQUIN,  MR.— Rhoda  Fleming: 

XL. 

SERABIGLIONE,  COUNT— Vit- 
toria:   XI.    x\aii,    XX,    XXVIII, 

XXX\T,   XXXIX,   XLV. 

SERENA,  MARCHIONESS  OF 
EDBURY— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry   Richmond:    xx^^I,    xxxix, 

LIV. 

SEWIS,  BENJAMIN— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  i,  vii- 
IX,  xxx\^I,  xxxviii,  XLII. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


221 


SHAFRAC— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

XXI. 

SHAGPAT— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

I,    III,    V,    VIII,    IX,    XI-XIV,    XVI- 

XXIV. 

SHAHPESH— Shaving  of  Shag- 
pat:  III,  IV,  XXI. 

SHAHPUSHAN  —  Shaving  of 
Shagpat:  xxii-xxiv. 

SHALDERS,  MR.— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  i,  ii,  v. 

SHALE,  LORD-LIEUTENANT 
— Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond: XLI. 

SHALE,  MR.  and  MRS.  MAT- 
THEW— Lord  Ormont  and  His 
Aminta:  xxvi. 

SHALE,  SUSAN:— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xxvi. 

SHAMSHUREEN  SHAH— Shav- 
ing of  Shagpat:  i,  xxiv. 

SHAPLOW,  BENJAMIN— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  x,  xvi. 

SHELLEN,  T.— Lord  Ormont  and 
His  Aminta:  xil. 

SHENKYN — Amazing  Marriage: 

SHEPHERD  BOY— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xix. 

SHEPSTER,  RALPH— Tale  of 
Chloe:  iv. 

SHERWIN,  CLARA  —  Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xii,  xxix,  xxx. 

SHERWIN,  GENERAL— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xii,  xxix. 

SHIMPOR— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

I,    V,    XXII,    XXIV. 

SHOOLPI— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

I,    V,    XXIV. 

SHORNE,  JULIA— Evan  Har- 
rington:  XIV,   XVII,  XVIII,  XXIV, 

XXV,  XXVII,  XXIX-XXXII,  XXXVII, 
XL,   XLII,   XLIII,   XLV. 

SHORNE,  MR.— Evan  Harring- 
ton: XIII,  XXIX. 

SHOTTS  AND  COMPANY, 
BANKERS— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: XVIII. 

SHRAPNEL,  DR.— Beauchamp's 
Career:  xi-xiv,  xvi,  xvii,  xix- 

XXII,        XXVI-XXXIX,        XLII-XLV, 
XLVIII-LVI. 

SHULLUM— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

I,    V,    XXIV. 

SIBLEY,  LUCY— Adventures  of 
Harry    Richmond:    xvi,    xxiv, 

XXVI,  XXVII,  XXXI,  XL VI,  XLVIII. 


SIEGFRIED— Farina:  ii.  vi.  ix, 

XIII. 

SILLABIN— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond:  xxxviii,  Llil. 

SIMON — Sandra  Belloni:   xxv. 

SINGLEBY,  LADY— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xiv,  xviii,  xxvii, 

XXVIII,    XXXIX,    XLI. 

SKEPSEY,  DANIEL— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  ill,  iv,  ix-xi, 
xv-xix,  xxi,  XXII,  XXIV,  xxv, 

XXVII,  XXVIIl,  xxx,  XXXI, 
XXXIII,  XXXIV,  XXXVI,  XXXVII, 
XXXIX,    XLI,    XLII. 

SKEPSEY,  MARTHA— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:   x,  xv,  xxiv, 

xxv,  XX\1I. 

SKERNE — Evan  Harrington:  ir. 

SLATER,  SIR  WEETON— Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry   Richmond: 

XXXIX,    XLII,    XLVII. 

SMITH,    ANNETTE— House    on 

the  Beach:   ii-xii. 
SMITH,    SULLIVAN— Diana    of 

the  Crossways:  ii,  in,  xi,  xiv, 

XVII,  XVIII,  XXI,  XXVIII-XXX, 
XXXVII   XXXIX,  XLIII. 

SMITH,  VAN  DIEMEN  (I)— 
House  on  the  Beach:  in,  vi. 

SMITH,  VAN  DIEMEN  (ID- 
House  on  the  Beach:  ll-xi. 

SMITHERS,  PETER— Evan  Har- 
rington: IX. 

SOCKLEY,  MRS.— Evan  Har- 
rington:  XXVI,   XLI. 

SOMERS,  DENZIL— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  i,  iv,  vi,  xii, 

xxv,  XXVIII,  XXXIV,  XXXVII, 
XXXVIII. 

SOOLKA — Shaving   of    Shagpat: 

II. 
SOUTHWEARE,    PERCY— One 

of     Our     Conquerors:      xxxii, 

XXXIV,  XXXV. 

SO^VERBY,  COUNTESS— One 
of  Our  Conquerors:  xlii. 

SOWERBY,  HONORABLE 
DUDLEY— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: IV,  VIII,  IX,  XI,  XII, 
XIV-XXII,   XXIV-XLII. 

SPEED      THE      PLOUGH— see 

BAKEWELL,  TOM. 
SPELLMAN,     JOHANN— Vitto- 

ria:  xxv,  xxvi. 
SPLENDERS,     LADY  —  Evan 

Harrington:  ix. 


999 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


STAINES,  LADY— Lord  Ormont 
and  His  Aminta:  xiii,  xv,  xxiii. 

STANTON  —  Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer:  XLIX,  LII. 

STOKES.  GEORGE— Evan  Har- 
rington: X,  XI. 

STOKES.  LADY  RACHEL— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Rich- 
mond: XXXIX. 

STORCHEL.  DR.— Tragic  Come- 
dians: xiii-xv,  XVII,  x\aii, 

STRAUSCHER,  HERR— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xxiv. 

STRIKE,  CAROLINE  — Evan 
Harrington:     iii,    v,    vii,     xiv, 

XVIII,  XIX,  XXI-XX\T,  XXX. 
XXXII.  XXXIII,  XXXVI-XLIV, 
XL\T.  XLVII. 

STRIKE.  MAJOR  MAXWELL— 
Evan    Harrington:   iii,   v,   \aii, 

XIV.       XVIII.       XIX,       XXI,       XXX, 

xxx^^I,  XXXIX,  xl,  xli. 

STRIKE,  MAX'V^'ELL  II— Evan 
Harrington:  v,  xliv. 

DE  STRODE,  COUNTESS— Ad- 
ventures of   Harry   Richmond: 

XLI. 

SUCKLING,  LORD  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  xvi,  xxi,  xxii,  xxvi, 
xx\ai,  xxix,  XXXI,  xxxvui. 


SUDLEY,  COLONEL— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:  xxx,  xxxii, 
xxxiii. 

SUMFIT,  MRS.— Rhoda  Fleming: 
ii-iv,  ^^I.  IX.  XIII,  XXIV,  xxxiii, 

XXXIX,    XLI-XLIII,    XLV-XLVII. 

SUMNERS,  THE— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  II,  x^^I,  xix,  xx^ai,  xxxi, 

XXXII,   XLII. 

SUSAN — Rhoda  Fleming:  xix. 

SWANAGE,  LADY— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xx,  xxi. 

SW^EETWINTER.  BOB  — Ad- 
ventures of   Harry   Richmond : 

III,  XXXVII,   LV. 

SW^ETWINTER.  MABEL— Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond: 
III,     XXIII,     xxx\ai,     XXXVIII, 

XLII,    LV,    LVI. 

SWEETWINTER.  M.\RK— Ad- 
ventures   of    Harry    Richmond: 

III,   XXIII,  XXXVI,   XXXVII,  LV. 

SYBILLE,  MADAME— Diana  of 
the    Crossways:    xxvii,    xxix, 

XXXVI. 

SZEZEDY,  COUNTESS  —  Ad- 
ventures of    Harry  Richmond: 

XXXIX. 


T 


TAPLOW— One  of  Our  Conquer- 
ors:  III,   XX. 
TARANI— Sandra  Belloni:  xl\iii. 
TARTINI— Vittoria:  xxx. 
TCHEIK— Shaving    of    Shagpat: 

XXI. 

TELLIO— Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:  XXVII. 

TEMPLE.  GUS— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  v,  vi.  ix-xx. 
XXIII.  XXIV,  xxvii.  xx^^II.  xxx, 
XXXII,    xxx^^ -XXXIX,    xl-xliv, 

XL^TI-LI,  LIII,   L\T. 

TEMPLE,  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xlii,  xliv. 

TENBY.  MR.— Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xlii. 

THEMISON,  DR.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xiil,  xiv,  xxi, 
xvaii,    XIX,    XXI,    XXII,    xxx, 

XXXVI,  XXXIX,  XL-XLII. 

THIER,      SCHWARTZ— Farina: 

III,   VU,  X-XIV.    ,  .  , , 


THOMSON,  DR.  LANY AN— Di- 
ana of  the  Crossways:  xxvi, 
xx\ai. 

THOMPSON,  LETITIA— Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel:  xi,  xxviii, 

XXXII. 

THOMPSON,  MR.— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  yii,  xi,  xvi- 
x\aii,  XXII,  xx\T.  XXXIII. 

THOMPSON,  MRS.— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xi. 

THOMPSON,  RIPTON— Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel:  i--\ii,  x-xii, 
x\a,    XXV,    XXVI,    xxvaii-xxxi, 

XXXIII,  XXXV-XXXVIII,  XLI-XLV. 

THRESHER,  JOHN— Advent- 
ures of  Harry  Richmond:  iii,  iv, 

\Jl,  XI,  XXIV,  XXXVII,  XLIII. 

THRESHER.  MARTHA  —  Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry   Richmond: 

III,    XXIII,    XXXVII. 

THRIBBLE— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond:  iii. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


223 


THWAITES,  CORPORAL  — 
Rhoda  Fleming:  xxxii. 

TILES.  BOB— Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel:  iii-v,  xi. 

TIMPAN,  MADAME  — Sandra 
Belloni:  xv. 

TINLEY,  ALBERT— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: XXXI,  XXXVI,  XLII,  LV,  LVI. 

TINLEY,  LAURA— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: I,  m-v,  X,  XIX,  XXI,  XXII, 

XXVI,      XXXVI,      XLII,      LV,       LVI, 

Lvm. 
TINLEY,    MADELINE— Sandra 
Belloni:  xlii. 

TINLEY,  RALPH— Sandra  Bel- 
loni: xxxii. 

TINLEY,  ROSE— Sandra  Bel- 
loni:  XLII. 

TINMAN,  MARTIN— House  on 
the  Beach:  i-xi. 

TODDS,  BEN— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XV,  XVI. 

TODHUNTER,  JOHN  PEM- 
BERTON— Ordeal  of  Richard 
Feverel;  xxxv,  XL. 

TODHUNTER,  MRS.— Ordeal  of 
Richard  Feverel:  xxxv. 

TOLLINGBY  —  Adventures  of 
Harry  Richmond:  xliii,  xlix, 

LVI. 

TOMBER,  SIR  UPTON— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  ii. 

TOMKINS— Beauchamp's  Career: 


TOMLINSON— Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer: XIX,  XX. 

TONANS,  MARCUS— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xvii,  xviii,  xxi, 

XXVII,  XXIX,  XXXII-XXXVI, 

XXXVIII. 

TOPF,  DAME— Farina:  ii. 
TRAMP — Adventures    of    Harry 

Richmond:  vi-viii. 
VON    TRESTEN.    COLONEL 

— Tragic  Comedians:  ix,  x,  xii, 

xiii,  xv-xviii. 

TREWINT— Adventures  of  Har- 
ry Richmond;  xxxvii. 
TREWK,  NED— Sandra  Belloni: 

XI. 

TRIPEHALLOW— Beauchamp's 
Career:  xix,  xx. 

TUCKHAM,  BLACKBURN  — 
Beauchamp's  Career:  iii,  xvi, 
XVII.  XXVI,  xxviii,  xxxii, 
XXXVII,  XXXIX,  XLII,  XLV- 
XLVIII,  LI,  LIII,  LV,  LTI. 

TUCKHAM,  MRS.— see  HAL- 
KETT.  CECELIA. 

TUDOR,  OW^N— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XXXIV. 

TURBOT,  TIMOTHY  —  Beau- 
champ's Career:  xiv,  xvi,  xix, 
XX,  XXII,  xxvii. 

TURCKEMS,  BARONESS— Ad- 
ventures of  Harry  Richmond: 
XXVI,  XXVII,  XXX,  xxxiv-xxxvi, 
XLVIII,  L. 


u 


UBERLY— Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  x,  xii,  xix,  xxiii, 

XL,  XLVIII,  li. 

UKLEET— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 
II. 

UPLOFT,  GEORGE— Evan  Har- 
rington: I,  XIX-XXII,  XXIV,  XXV, 
XXVII,  XXIX-XXXI,  XXXIII, 

XXXVII,    XLIII. 


UPLOFT,  SQUIRE— Evan  Har- 
rington:  I,   XIII. 

URMSING,     BEAVES— One    of 
Our  Conquerors:  ix,  xxi,  xxii, 

XXX^T,  XL,   XLI. 

URSEL — Adventures    of    Harry 

Richmond:  xxxv. 
URUISH— Shaving    of    Shagpat: 

XXIV. 


V 


VAUGHAN,  MR. 
riage:  xxxiv. 


-Amazing  Mar- 


VEEJRAVOOSH  —  Shaving      of 
Shagpat:  xv^I-xxI,  xxiii. 

DE    VILLA    FLOR,    COUNT— 
Evan  Harrington:  ix. 

VINCENT,  MISS— Lord  Ormont 


and  His  Aminta:  i,  ii,  v,  vii, 

XI      XII      V  j^^j^ 

VISTOCQ,  BARON  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  xxvil. 

VITTORIA— see  BELLONI,  EM- 
ILIA ALESSANDRA. 

VOLPO,      COLONEL— Vittoria: 

XXXIX. 


224 


A  LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 


w 


WADASTER,  LORD— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xxx. 

WADDY,  MARY— Adventures  of 
Harry   Richmond:    ii-iv,    xviii, 

XX,  XXIII,  XXXVIII,  XXXIX,  XLII, 
XLIV,    XLIX-LIV. 

WAINSBY  —  Rhoda       Fleming: 

XVIII. 

WALBURG,  COUNT  —  Tragic 
Comedians:  vm-x. 

WARDAN,  DR.— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: xxi. 

WARDEN,  MR.  and  MRS.— 
Case  of  General  Opie  and  Lady 
Camper:  li. 

WARING,  M.UOR  PERCY— 
Rhoda  Fleming:  xx,  xxii-xxiv, 
XXVI,  XXVII,  xxx-xxxii, 

XXXVIII,  XXXIX,  XLIV,  XLVI, 
XLVIII. 

WARWICK.  AUGUSTUS— Di- 
ana of  the  Crossways:  i,  ii,  iv- 
IX,  xiii-xv,  xvii,  x-\aii,  XXI, 
xxiii-xxv,    XXVII,    XXIX,    xxx, 

XXXVI,  XL,    XLIII. 

WARWICK,  DIANA  ANTONIA 
— Diana     of     the     Crossways: 

I-XLII. 

WATER-LADY,     THE— Farina: 

XII,  XIII. 

WATHIN,  CRAMBORNE— Di- 
ana of  the  Crossways:  xiv,  xvii, 

XXI,  XXIII. 

WATHIN,  MRS.— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  xiv,  x\^I,  xxi,  xxiii, 

XXV,        XXVII,       XXIX,        XXXV- 

XXXVII,  XLII. 

WATKYN — Amazing     Marriage: 

XXXIV. 

WAYTIS,  MR.— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XXV. 

WEISSPRIESS.  CAPTAIN  JO- 
HANN  NEPOMUK  FREI- 
HERR  VON  SCHEPPEN- 
H.\USEN — Vittoria:  ix,  x,  xiv, 

XV,  XIX,  XX,  XXII,  XXIII,  XXVI- 
XXIX,  XXXIII,  XXXIV,  XXXVIII- 
XL,  XLV,  XLVI. 

W^DDERBURN,  SERJEANT— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

XXXIX,  XLI,    XLII. 

WEDGER,      TOMMY— Amazing 

Marriage:  li. 
WELBECK— Evan     Harrington: 

VII. 


WELSH,  CAPTAIN  JASPER— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond; 

XII-XV,      XVII-XIX,      XXIX,      XLII, 
LIV-LVI. 

WELSH,  ROBERT— Adventures 
of  Harry  Richmond:  xiii,  xiv. 

WELSHPOOL,    LORD— Beau- 
champ's  Career:  xxx%nii. 

WELSHPOOL,  COUNTESS  — 
Beauchamp's  Career:  xxxiii. 

WENTWORTH,  AUSTIN— Or- 
deal of   Richard  Feverel:   i,  ii, 

IV,  VI-XII,  XX,  XXV,  XXVI,  XXXIII, 
XXXIV,   XLI,   XLII,   XLV. 

WENTWORTH,  MRS.— Ordeal 
of  Richard  Feverel:  I. 

WERNER,  BARON— Farina:  ii- 
IV,  VI,  %ai,  x-xv. 

■W^STLAKE,  MR.— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:    xvii,   xxiii,   xxvii, 

XXVIII,   xxx,  XXXV. 

WEYBURN,  COLONEL  SID- 
NEY— Lord  Ormont  and  His 
Aminta:  iii,  iv,  xiv,  xxiii. 

■WEYBURN,  M.\TTHEW— Lord 
Ormont  and  His  Aminta:  i-v, 
■\ai-ix,  xi-xxi,  xxiii-xxx. 

WEYBURN,  MRS.— Lord  Or- 
mont and  His  Aminta:  xiii-xv, 
xviii,  XX,  xx\aii. 

WHEEDLE,  MR.  and  MRS.— 
Evan  Harrington:  xlv. 

WHEEDLE,  POLLY— Evan  Har- 
rington: XIII,  XIV,  XVII,  X\TII, 
XXV,        XXVII,         XXXII,        XXXV- 

xxx^^II,  XLV,  xl\ti. 
WHEEDLE,  SUSAN— Evan  Har- 
rington: X,  XI,  XIII,  XVIII,  XXV, 
xxx,      XXXII,      XXXIII,      XXXVII, 
XL,   XLV. 

WHITFORD,     GRACE— Egoist: 

XLIV. 

WHITFORD,        MRS.  — Egoist: 

XXXVIII. 

WHITFORD,  VERNON— Egoist: 

II-XXX,  XXXII-XXXIX,  XLI-L. 

WHITMONBY— Diana  of  the 
Crossways:  x\ai,  xviii,  xx,  xxi, 
XXIII,  XXV,  XXAai-XXX,  xxxiii, 
XXXV. 

WICKLOW,  MARY  ANN— Rho- 
da Fleming:  v,  x,  xxv. 

WICKLOW,  MRS.— Rhoda  Flem- 
ing: V,  X,  xxv. 


IN  MEREDITH'S  NOVELS 


225 


WILDER.  MR.  and  MRS.— Case 
of  General  Ople  and  Lady  Cam- 
per: II. 

WILDJOHN.     COLONEL— Ego- 
ist:  XXXV. 
WILHELM  —  Vittoria:        xxvi, 

XXVII. 

WILKINSON,  PERCY— Diana 
of  the  Crossways:  I. 

WILLIAM — Adventures  of  Harry 
Richmond:  vii. 

WILLIAM — Diana  of  the  Cross- 
ways:  XXVI. 

WILLIAMS.  MONTEREZ— Ad- 
ventures  of   Harry  Richmond: 

XIX,   XXXIX,    XLVII. 

WILMERS,  DORSET— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  i. 

WILMERS,  HENRY— Diana  of 
the   Crossways:    i,   xvii,   xviii, 

XXIII,   XXV,    XXVII,   XXVIII,   XXX. 

W  I  L  M  O  R  E  ,  LIEUTENANT 
JACK — Beauchamp's      Career: 

III,   XV,   XIX,   XLII,   XLVIII. 

WILSON— Sandra  Belloni:  ii,  vi, 

XI. 

WILSON,  MRS.— Sandra  Belloni: 

II,    XI. 

WILTS,  LADY— Adventures  of 
Harry    Richmond:    xxi,    xxn, 

XXVII. 

WILTS,  MOUNTFORD— Diana 
of  the  Crossways:  xxviil. 

WILTSHIRE,  JOHN— Amazing 
Marriage:  ii. 

WINCH,  MADGE— Amazing  Mar- 
riage:   III,    xv-xix,    xxii,    xxv- 

XXXIII,    XXXV-XLVI. 

WINCH,  SARAH— Amazing  Mar- 
riage: XVIII,  XIX,  XXI,  XXII,  XXV, 
XXVIII,  XXX,  XXXI,  XXXV, 
XXXVI,    XXXVIII,    XLVI. 

WINCH.  TOBIAS  —  Amazing 
Marriage:  xviii. 

WINGHAM— Beauchamp's  Ca- 
reer:   XIX. 

WINKRIED— Farina:  ii. 


WINSTANLEY.  MRS.  GRAF- 
TON— Diana  of  the  Crossways: 

XX  VII. 

WINTER,  VERA— Beauchamp's 
Career:  xxvi. 

WIPPERN,  LORD  —  Rhoda 
Fleming:  xxii. 

WISHAW,  MARY  FENCE— 
Evan  Harrington:  vii,  ix. 

WITLINGTON,  EARL  OF— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

XXXIX,    XLII. 

VON  WOLFENSTEIN,  COUNT 
PRETZEL  —  Adventures  of 
Harry    Richmond:    xvi,    xviii, 

XXX. 

WOLLASLEY,  MRS.— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  xviii. 

WOODSEER,  GOWER— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  vi-xi,  xvi-xxvill, 

XXX-XLVI. 

WOODSEER,  MR.  — Amazing 
Marriage:  xviii,  xix,  xxi,  xxii, 

XXV,   XXXVII,   XLI,  XLIV. 

WORCESTER,  ELIZABETH  — 
Tale  of  Chloe:  vii. 

WORRELL,  MAJOR— One  of 
Our  Conquerors:    xxviii,  xxix, 

XXXII,  XXXIII,    XXXV,    xxxvii- 
XXXIX. 

WORRELL,  MRS.— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  xxviii. 

WRECKHAM,  MR.  and  MRS.— 
Adventures  of  Harry  Richmond: 

XXXIX. 

WROXETER,  LORD— Diana  of 
the  Crossways:  iv,  xli,  xlii. 

WtJRMSER— Vittoria:  xxvi. 

W\"THAN.  OWAIN— Amazing 
Marriage:  xvi,  xxvii,  xxix-xxx, 

XXXIII,  XXXIV,    XXXVI,    XXXVII, 
XL-XLIII,    XLV-XLVII. 

WYTHAN,  REBECCA— Amaz- 
ing Marriage:  xxvii,  xxix-xxxi, 

XXXIII,   XXXIV,   XXXVI,  XL,  XLII, 
XLIII,  XLVI.  XLVII. 


YATT,  DR.  PETER— One  of  Our 
Conquerors:  ii,  iv,  vili,  x,  xvili, 

XX,    XXII,    XXXIII. 


YATT,  MRS.— One  of  Our  Con- 
querors: XXII,  XXXIII,  XXXVI. 


226 


A  LIST  OF  CliARACTERS 


ZAK — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  xxii. 
ZARAGAL— Shaving  of  Shagpat: 

XXIV. 

ZEEL — Shaving  of  Shagpat:  xxi- 

XXIII. 

ZETTLISCH,     LIEUTENANT— 

Vittoria:  xxii. 
ZOFEL,     COLONEL  —  Vittoria: 

xx\aii,  XXIX. 
ZOOP,  EL— see  EL  ZOOP. 


ZOOR A— Shaving  of  Shagpat:  ii. 
ZOTTI — Vittoria:    viii,   xv,   x\t. 


ZRMACK 

XXIV. 


Shaving   of    Shagpat: 
ZURVAN— Shaving  of   Shagpat: 


VON  ZWANZIGER— Farina:  in. 
ZWITTERWITZ— Vittoria:  xxvi. 


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